Remember Me
by grednforgesgirl
Summary: She'd had so many lives spread throughout his time stream. Clara. Fragments throughout time. Once, she was born on Gallifrey. Once, she was a Time Lady. And once, she was the love of the Doctor's life. She saved him. She had always saved him. His guardian angel. His best friend. His family. His soulmate. If only he could truly remember her. 50th Celebration! Doctors 1-11/Clara
1. Only Children

**-REMEMBER ME-**

CHAPTER ONE

_Only Children_

We were just children.

Young, and innocent and carefree. Neither of us knew our destinies. Neither of us were aware of the horrors that lied in your future; and my past, present, future. Neither of us cared.

We were only children.

We raced across hills; we climbed the white trees with the silver leaves. We played in the shining forest and we'd lie in the red, red grass and stare up at that yellow sky all day and dream.

We'd lay there until the second sun set, and the mountains shined. We'd watch the stars come out, and we'd dream of seeing every one, you and I.

We'd steal a TARDIS, you told me. With that twinkle in your young face, and a childish spark of longing for freedom. A burning desire to see every star, every planet.

"Can I come with you?" I ask you.

You tuck a flower in my hair, and you smile.

"I wouldn't go anywhere without you," you say. "You're my best friend."

"You're _my_ best friend," I tell you, and we giggle and laugh and play and dream.

"Someday, I'll be a Doctor," you dream. "I'll be a hero and save _everyone_."

"But who will save you?" I whisper to you. And you smile, and you hold me close, taking my hand in yours.

"You will, of course!" You say. We laugh, and we innocently dance, little knowing how our childish dreams will play out so fantastically.

A young, naïve childhood. A childhood you probably can't even remember. You don't remember me, probably. You never do.

Even though I beg you to.

_Run you clever boy, and remember. _

It all started when we were eight.

The Children of Gallifrey were taken from their families at the age of eight. To look into the Untempered Schism. A gap in the fabric of reality. We see into Time itself. Some are inspired. Some go mad. And some run away.

We were among those that ran away, you and I. We never did stop running. We never would.

I remember it. So clearly.

I remember that I was the one you ran to after you looked into the Untempered Schism.

I was the one who held you in my arms while you cried and shook like a leaf, clinging to me like I was the only one that could save you. So terrified, so scared. So afraid of what you can't even remember. So afraid that you know you have to run, and run, and run and _run_ and never stop.

I remember that you were the one I ran to after I looked into the Untempered Schism, and saw a thousand lives scattered throughout time. A million times I died. Echoes, fragments. All of them, even myself. Fragments of a template, like shattered glass. Not the recipe, but the soufflé. Just a ghost.

But real enough to save you.

I ran to you, because I had to make sure you were safe. All we did was hug, and I never said a word about how looking into Time made us feel. But somehow you understood that all I needed was you.

And then life happened. We grew up. We drifted. Classes began and we were separated. You made other friends, and I made other friends. And we forgot about each other. You forgot about me. But you were always in my hearts.

I never forgot about you. Why did you forget about me?

There was once, just once, that gave me hope. It was a party, one of those summer parties on the coast, where it's all heat and no classes and there's a taste of freedom in the air. A taste of possibility. A taste of our futures.

You were drunk.

I wasn't. I remember it so clearly. Even if I had been drunk I would have remembered that night forever anyway.

Our eyes locked across a crowd of people, and I saw the desire burning in your eyes. You were being egged on by your friends, to go and actually talk to a _girl_ for once. And who you had your sights set on was me.

And you came to me. You didn't say a word, you just came up to me and kissed me.

If it had been anyone but you, I would have been responsible for their first regeneration. Cause of death: fury of a Time Lady.

But it wasn't anyone.

It was you.

We both heard your friends wolf-whistling. But you didn't care. I didn't care. You kissed me deeper, and my fingers found their way into your hair.

_Rassilon_ you had some great hair when you were a kid.

You could have stopped there. Your friends would have stopped teasing you at that point. But you didn't. You led me away from the party, to the beach. And under the stars that night on white shores leading to red grassy hills with golden waves crashing around us something neither of us would ever regret happened.

For that was the night that we danced.

Our hands intertwined and your lips found my ear and you whispered my name, and I whispered yours. It was beautiful, but it was not perfect in the eyes of anyone but us. Just like our entire relationship.

You were too drunk and we were both so young. You wouldn't ever remember who it was with.

We fall asleep that night beneath the stars, together for the first time in forever. But I wake up before you. It's the only time I leave you on purpose in this life. I kissed you softly, a kiss goodbye, and you stirred. But I was already gone.

I would never forget that night. I would never forget you. You were always, _always_, in my hearts.

But you forgot me. You always forget me.

_Run you clever boy, and remember me._

* * *

_A/N: Hold on to your fez, Whoufflers. This is gonna be a tricky one. _

_Okay, seriously. This is just chapter one, and I've got a whole plan in my mind for this story, the first six chapters are completely finished, I've got at least ten more after that almost completely written, and I've already written the last chapter. So, yes, this is one there's going to be a lot more of. Keep your Stetson on! _

_And remember, we ship Whouffle now. Whouffle is cool._

_Thanks for reading, and please leave a review, my fellow Whovians!_


	2. The Very Beginning

**-REMEMBER ME-**

CHAPTER TWO

_The Very Beginning_

Eighty-two years after our childhood, we sit in the grand hall for graduation. As they call out your name, your beautiful name, and you become an honorary Time Lord (by the skin of your teeth, I might add. If there's an opposite of Valedictorian, you're it). I clap so hard for you and I cry, I cry for my lost childhood friend who ran away who I'm so _very_ proud of.

And as I graduate, and become a full Time Lady, your eyes meet mine, and there's not even a flash of recognition. You half-heartedly clap, bored with the long Time Lord ceremonies, impatient to get out of there. You don't remember me. You never remember me.

And you just had to do something stupid.

Post-graduation parties and everything, I get it. I was at one too, but not like what you did.

But why? Why did you have to run off with your friends to the Medusa Cascade? Were you drunk? High on the plants that grow in the caves in the mountains of Solace? Just high on _life?_ Why? Why did you have to do something so stupid?

And you come back, and you're the talk of the graduated class. Nobody knows exactly what happened, how you did it. None of you ever talk about it, but you're all heroes. You've done something so incredibly heroic and so incredibly stupid. You've single-handedly sealed the rift at the Medusa Cascade, and you're the hero you've always wanted to be.

The Doctor, they call you now. The Master, they call him. The Rani, they call her. The Corsair, they call him. You and your friends. You chose your new names, and you chose them well. The promises you make.

Your real names are lost, and your fates are sealed.

You're the Doctor, just like you've always wanted to be.

I _miss_ you more in that moment than I have since I was a little girl.

And we drift even further apart.

There's no classes anymore. Real life has begun. You go back to the Academy, and I become a governess.

My friend's family needs me, and I don't run out on the people I care about. Not like you do.

Every night I sit on the red grass, and look up at the sky. Every night, I think of you. I wonder if you are safe. If you are happy. If you are looking upon those same stars and dreaming of the day you leave Gallifrey and visit them. I wonder if you are dreaming of the day you can run away.

I wonder if you ever remember me, your childhood friend, who you promised the stars.

I wish I could go with you.

I've got a list, you see. A big book filled with 101 places I want to see. All over the universe.

The Rings of Akhaten. Appulapachia. Woman Wept. Barcelona. Siluria. The Towers of Darillium. Hedgewick's World of Wonders.

And Earth.

Oh, how I'd love to see Earth.

Take me there, Doctor. Rescue me and show me the stars.

It's only hundreds of years later that I see you again, one last time. I'm working in the shop, to repair the broken TARDISes. And there you are, you and a young girl I've never seen before.

You look at her as though you're surprised she exists. Grandfather, she calls you. But you've never been married, Doctor. You've never had a child. I would know. You would be the gossip of Gallifrey, if you had.

Wibbly-Wobbly, Timey-Wimey.

She's from your future.

It's a matter of fate, of destiny, that I run into you that day. You're so old. You've aged so much. What have you been doing to yourself, Doctor, since the last time I saw you? I miss you. Please take me with you.

But you don't. You don't even recognize me when I stop you from entering the wrong TARDIS.

"Doctor," I call out to you. And your eyes meet mine for the first time in years. My hearts are thumping as they haven't for years. You don't recognize me. But I know you. And I still want to take care of you, even if you've forgotten me. I want you to go out and see the stars and have the _best_ time of your life because I can't.

"Yes? What is it, what do you want?"

"I'm sorry. But you're about to make a very big mistake. Don't steal that one. Steal this one. The navigation system's knackered, but you'll have much more fun."

And off you go, to see the stars. And I don't even ask you if you'll take me with you. Why would you? You can't even remember me.

"Run you clever boy, and remember."

Somehow I feel as if you owe me, but I can't remember how. It's dreadfully unfair of me, and I feel horrible for feeling it, but _you owe me, Doctor._ I don't know how, or why. But all I ask is you remember me, and you can't even do that.

_Run you clever boy, and remember me._


	3. Show Me The Stars

**-REMEMBER ME-**

CHAPTER THREE

_Show Me The Stars_

It's years and years before you return to Gallifrey. Called back. You must pay for your crimes. You have become a renegade, and the Time Lords disapprove.

You've regenerated.

You're no longer the bright young boy from my childhood. You're no longer the handsome man from the academy with the _great_ hair. You're no longer the old man who ran away.

You're short, with a bowl cut hair. Your clothes are all at least one size too big, and you're goofy looking. It seems familiar, your attire. The way you rub your hands together when you're thinking. You're adorable, and you remind me of someone. Someone I can't quite remember. It's probably just you. Because you're _you._ Your shoes are scuffed and you wear plaid trousers and a bow-tie.

I quite like the bow tie. It suits you. It's very cool. It's cool _before_ it was cool.

We meet again, but we never speak. Your eyes meet mine across the room, and you look at me as though you might, _might_ just remember me. You look intrigued. Confused. There's a spark in your eyes as you look at me, and I love that look. You stand up, as if to come talk to me, but they call you back into your trial, and we never speak.

We never will, because they force you to regenerate, and they banish you to Earth. Your companions forget you, and it's incredibly unfair. You're the talk of Gallifrey once again, though you'll never know it.

I move on with my life. I learn how to pilot the TARDIS, I go back to the Academy. I want to travel the stars. I don't need you to take me. I'll do it myself.

And the day I first step into a TARDIS of my own, I smile, and I cry. Because she's such a beautiful ship. She pales in comparison to your beloved ship, but she's mine. All mine. And she actually _likes _me.

Huh. Don't know why yours wouldn't. But whatever.

She'll show me the stars, my beautiful ship.

I go off to see the stars, and I take a companion of my own.

Her name was Nina, and I had picked her up on Earth. That was the first place I went to see, you know. Maybe it was because you were there, though I never saw you. Maybe it was because that was the place I most wanted to see out of all the universe.

Nina was great. She was amazed at everything I showed her. I took her to all sorts of places, and we saw the stars together.

I fancied her.

She was just so brilliant. She reminded me of you, a little bit. She had this manic energy. Starlight in her soul. She never would have seen the stars if it weren't for me. She was my hand to hold.

She might have fancied me, too. But I'll never know.

I lost her.

It was a harsh lesson, a cruel one. The first lesson of the danger of travelling the stars. The curse of the Time Lords.

I wish someone had warned me. I should have seen it coming. I wish I could have saved her.

It wasn't fair. It was completely and utterly pointless. A death that held no honor. Just pointless.

That's the curse of the Time Lords.

I travelled alone for a while after that.

Until it all just got incredibly unbearable, being alone. That's when I started to just pick them up out of nowhere.

There was this alien I picked up. He was weird-looking. And purple. But he was nice. There was nothing permanent about it. We both knew he was going to leave, and that was fine. That was just what I needed, after Nina.

After him I travelled with a couple of kids, just for a short bit. Orphans, the both of them. I took them to Hedgewick's World of Wonders, when it was in its heyday. They loved it there, and I felt as though I'd been there before, even though I knew I hadn't. I didn't understand.

You would have known why. You always know.

They were adopted. By a lovely family in the 46th century. They took them in and I stayed for a little while, taking care of them. Being their governess. Making sure they were settled.

And then I took off again. I had a string of companions. A couple of aliens, a married couple from New Earth. And humans. I picked up humans from all over the place. Humans were the best ones to travel with.

There's this legend, I'm not sure you've heard it. You probably have. You'd actually probably know more about it than me. But the legend is that humans and Earth were created by the Time Lords, to become companions to us. It's ridiculous, I know. Because if it were true, why would they make humans have such short lives?

There was a boy. I travelled with him. I hadn't fallen in love, not since Nina. That was the trick, I realized. Don't fall in love. Don't ever fall in love.

But this boy. This _boy._ He promised me forever. He wanted to stay with me, forever. He protected me. He was sweet. He was nice. He was good-looking.

His name was Rory.

_Run you clever boy, and remember me._

* * *

_A/N: No, not our Rory Pond...er...Williams. Sorry. _

_Bit of explanation, just in case. The inspiration for Nina and Rory came from 'Asylum of the Daleks' when Oswin says "The first boy I ever fancied was called Rory. Actually, she was called Nina. I was going through a phase." So I took that to mean a literal interpretation that the first person she fancied was Nina, but then she later the first boy she fancied was Rory. And, btw, lol...Nina was mentioned by Angie. Sooo...I assumed that Nina and Rory carried over into some of Clara's incarnations. _

_Please leave a review, dear readers!_


	4. Regeneration

_A/n: Matt Smith is leaving. Try not to cry. Try not to cry... D': okay, I'm crying. *sob* I really hoped we'd get one more season..._

_I just hope he goes out in a blaze of glory, he kisses Clara before he goes and tells her how he (obviously) feels, we get an awesome song to accompany his regeneration ("Ave, ave Undecim" which means "Bye, bye, Eleven." Or maybe "Vide circum vos, undecim" or "See you around, Eleven"? It'll probably be called Trenzalore or something, though. Or just a variation on "I am the Doctor." Anyway...) , and his last word is Geronimo._

_Okay...I'm gonna go in a corner and cry now. _

_Oh, well, I just now noticed that Matt's news accompanies this chapter rather well...what a coincidence. Never ignore a coincidence. Unless you're busy, in which case always ignore a coincidence. _

_Well, and I'm rather busy sobbing right now, so...anyway..._

_Geronimo._

* * *

**-REMEMBER ME-**

CHAPTER FOUR

_Regeneration_

Rory was from the 60th century, he lived on New New Earth. After that outbreak of plague on Old New Earth, the humans relocated. Indomitable, you would have called them. Indomitable. It's a good thing they are, or I never would have met him.

You would have liked him, I think. Or maybe not. You might have been jealous. But you never even remembered me, so maybe not.

I fell for him, you see. He grew on me. The silly man who made me laugh so hard and made me _see_ the stars, made me _appreciate_ everything I showed him. Because he never would have. He never would have seen any of these things, if he'd never met me.

It was so ridiculous, how we met. You would have laughed.

I met him in the market. And he smiled at me, and I smiled back. We didn't speak, but we connected. And I knew without a doubt I'd found the person I wanted to travel with.

It never would have happened, if I hadn't showed up and saved him from that ridiculous cross-dressing purple alien he'd somehow run afoul of.

It was chasing him around town with these yellow fruit things, and, it was so funny, and ridiculous. Because it had these weird tentacles and this angry expression on it's face. It was hard to see what was so threatening about it, but Rory was running from it like he was absolutely terrified.

Who knows how he'd managed to make it so angry. I'm glad he did, though. Or I might never have met him. I might never have traveled with him. I might never have fallen in love with him.

I was the one who saved him. He was stuck down an alleyway, the alien was almost on top of him, screaming in these high-pitched "wo-lo-lo-lo-lo!" sounds as it approached him, wavy tentacles and all.

And I appeared above him in my TARDIS, with a grin and a way out.

He stayed. And we fell in love.

It was him I was with when I saw you again.

It was him I was with when I regenerated.

I died, you see. I died saving you. And you didn't even know. You didn't even realize.

It was the Daleks. Those damn pepper pots were going to kill you. And they killed me instead. I took the bullet for you. Well, the ray-gun.

You saw, I know you did. You had a new face. I remembered that, I hadn't seen your third face yet. You were handsome, with that face. Tall and striking with ruffles and frills. You saw me, I know you did. Your eyes locked with mine, and you recognized me. Like you'd seen me before, but could never remember my face. I had intrigued you, but you were too afraid. I saw it in your eyes.

You watched me die for you, and you didn't even come back for me. You just drove off in that eccentric yellow car of yours that was so very _you_, and didn't look back.

And Rory was the one that saved me.

I was dying, on the street, after that damn Dalek shot me. He destroyed it, and he held me in his arms as I was dying.

"Clara!" he called. He was afraid. So afraid. He was crying as he cradled me. "Oh, Clara, please don't die."

I hadn't ever told him of regeneration. I thought I'd outlive _him_, not the other way around.

"Get me back to the TARDIS," I tell him, panting, dying, hurting. It hurts so much when you get shot by a Dalek. "Quick."

I don't remember quite how I got back to the TARDIS, but somehow Rory managed it. That clever boy. He took care of me, no matter how scared he was. I was scared too, but I couldn't let him see it.

"I should have told you," I tell him, now. Safe in the console room. I set us off, throw us into the time vortex. "I'm sorry. There's this thing that happens, to Time Lords, if we're about to die. It's called regenerating. I can heal every single cell in my body. But I'm going to change. Everything about me changes, and this me dies. I've never had to do this before. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

I look at my hands, and they're glowing. "It's started," I tell him. I kiss him one last time with these lips, I tell him one last time I love him with this voice, and tell him to stand back.

Rory might be the last person I see with these eyes, but you're the last person I think of.

I explode, and it burns, and it _hurts._ Of all the things they tell us about regeneration at the Academy, they just had to skimp on the fact that it _hurts_ so much. I can feel it healing me, though. Every cell. It rips through me, a wave of healing.

And then, it hurts even _more,_ because then I'm changing. Every single bit of me, I can feel it dying and being replaced with something new. It burns, and burns, and burns through me. And I'm only sad that I'll never see you with _these _eyes again, these eyes that are _my_ eyes. This face that is _my_ face.

I don't want to change.

I don't want to go.

It's too late. I'm regenerating.

_Run you clever boy, and remember me._


	5. New New Clara

**-REMEMBER ME-**

CHAPTER FIVE

_New New Clara_

And then it stops, and I see the world through new eyes. He's the first thing I see, Rory. I grin at him with a new smile.

"Hello!" is the first thing I say. My voice is even squeakier now. That's annoying. Though it might grow on me, though. Yes. Yes, it might.

He looks at me like he doesn't know who I am. That's alright. I don't know who I am, either. Everything's new. New Clara. New life. New _everything._

"So, what do I look like?" I ask him, exploring my new body. It's thinner, taller. Good. That's good. I like that. I was always too short. "Mirror. Where's a mirror? I need a mirror."

I take off, and basically trash my console room in my desperate search for a mirror.

"My _face!_ _Look_ at it! Yowza!"

It's almost the same, but with a few different features.

"New teeth! That's weird. That's going to take some getting used to. Fuller lips. _Yowza._ My eyes are _huge!_ Wow, look at those puppies! Ginger! I'm _ginger! _And _freckles!_ I've got _freckles! _And _look_ at that nose. Why, out of everything, did that have to stay the same? Just as funny-looking as ever. And, _blimey_, I can talk, can't I? Wow, this mouth of mine doesn't stop."

I grin at Rory. He's in shock.

"Who are you?" he says in this tiny voice. My hearts break for him. I'm compassionate, I see. I've always been so, but now it's intensified.

I don't want Rory to ever hurt for me. I don't want him to ever be sad.

"I'm Clara!" I tell him. "I'm soufflé girl! I'm the impossible girl!"

I frown.

"No. Wait. Where did that come from?"

Suddenly my head hurts. _Oh,_ it hurts! I cry out in pain, and almost faint. Rory catches me.

"You're boiling," he says, he's afraid. "You're hot."

"Why, thank you," I say, with a flirty smile. "As are you, sexy man."

"No, I mean _literally,_ you have a fever."

"Do I? Hm. That's surprising. That should not be happening. Regeneration's gone wobbly, I suppose. First go and I can't get it right. What the hell." I stumble. Rory holds me steady. "There's two of you. I can't even _tell _you what I'm thinking with that. _Wow_, you're not even in focus. You alright?"

"Am _I_ alright? _Really?"_

I giggle, and bop him on the nose.

"Regeneration sickness. Nothing to worry about. Just…you know what I could go for? I could really go for some _bananas._ Bananas are good. You should always take a banana to a party. Where did that come from? I've heard that before. No I haven't. What am I saying? _Ah!_ My head. You know, I wanna see Carmen."

"Carmen," he repeats.

"Yeah, Carmen. That's a good show. I'm Carmen. No I'm not. Why would I say that? He called me that. I'm soufflé girl. _No, _I'm not that either. Am I? I don't know. My head hurts, Rory. _Ah,_ my head hurts. I have to save…I have to save the Doctor. That's it. That's what I have to do. I have to save the Doctor."

"The Doctor?"

"Yeah, the Doctor. I was born to save the Doctor."

"Doctor who?"

"_The_ Doctor, Rory. _The_ Doctor. I don't know. I … don't know. I don't…_ah_ my head hurts. Rory, something's wrong. I have to save the Doctor."

Everything from then on out becomes a bit of a blur, my head hurts. I know I've got regeneration sickness. I know something's wrong.

"I have to save the Doctor," I whisper, and then everything goes black.

I wake up in my bed. It's warm, and comfy. My head doesn't hurt so much anymore. I can't remember anything that happened. I don't open my eyes yet, because I had been dreaming of a face. A face I want to remember _so badly_. But all I can remember is a big chin.

It's that face I want to see when I wake up. It's that face I want to see, watching over me, taking care of me, protecting me. Just like he did before. It's him I want to be holding my hand. It's _you._ It's _you_ that I want to see, that's who he is. He's _you._

But when I open my eyes, it's not you. It's Rory. Rory is holding my hand, and looking at me with such concern. I remember fuzzily that I regenerated. That's right. But that's all I remember.

"What happened?" I mumble sleepily.

"You were dying," says Rory. He kisses my hand. "You sort of…exploded and you changed. You changed your whole body."

"I regenerated," I mutter.

"That's what you called it, yeah."

"I'm sorry I didn't warn you," I say weakly. "Didn't think this would happen."

He forgives me. He always forgives me. That must be why I love him.

That must be why he stays with me so long.

That must be why he gives me his forever.

_Run you clever boy, and remember me._

* * *

_A/N: Thank you, to my reviewers and readers. I'm completely shocked I haven't got more, because (in my humble opinion) this is one of my best stories. Maybe I need to change the summary or image or something. It's a bit frustrating, because I'm like "WHAT AM I DOING WRONG?! ARGH!" lol. Because most of my other stories have really good reviews, and I'm surprised I'm NOT getting a load of reviews for once. I dunno. Maybe I just need to let it soak and keep posting and reviews will come._

_Maybe this is my humble pie or something, though I'm insecure enough as it is so I don't know why I'd need to eat some humble pie. Because I'm just over here like, "Is it not good enough? Not enough fluff? Do I need to add more cute in? Not enough feels? Is it too short? Not enough Doctor? Am I not explaining things properly? Do I need to go into more detail? WHAT? WHAT IS IT?! ARGHH!" ...lol. Sort of lol. Sort of like frustrated lol._

_So please, please, please, please, for the sake of my sanity, leave a review. It'll take two seconds out of your busy fanfiction reading to say "This is good, keep writing!" and will ensure that I continue writing this story and don't feel terrible about my writing._

_I'm sorry to get angry/frustrated/rant on you guys, but I really need some encouragement over here. It's why I write (aside from you know, just loving to write). Well, I feel a bit rude and not ginger after that, lol. _

_So thank you, to the three people (one person?), who have left reviews on purpose. I really, deeply appreciate it._

_And please, LEAVE A REVIEW!_


	6. Rory

_A/N: Thanks so much for all your wonderful reviews! I feel much more encouraged now, thanks! As a reward, I'm posting this chapter early. Just remember to keep it up, guys! You're wonderful!_

_Oh, and just as a reminder...this Rory is NOT Rory Pond. Williams. Pond. Definitely Pond. But my point is, Clara's Rory is NOT the Nose at all. The Nose is currently living happily ever after with the Legs...whenever they are. :'( still miss the Ponds...maybe I'll go watch Dinosaurs on a Spaceship to cheer me up. _

* * *

**-REMEMBER ME-**

CHAPTER SIX

_Rory_

I recover from my regeneration well. Rory adjusts to my new self and I adjust to my new self. And we run off and have adventures, me and Rory, and our relationship is stronger than ever.

But I can see it. It's creeping up on him, all this running we do. He's ageing, more noticeably every day, and eventually I'll have to face the fact that I will have to say goodbye.

I can't do it. I've been running so long with him I don't know how to stop. I've been with him so long I don't know how to say goodbye. I don't know if I can live without him. My Rory. Rory and Clara in the TARDIS.

He promised me his forever, and that's what he gave me. His forever.

But his forever couldn't be my forever.

I never left him. I took care of him, as he grew older and older. As people began to think he was my father, then my grandfather, then my great-grandfather. They never knew the truth, as he lay on his death bed, an old man, sick and weak. He had only hours to live, I knew. His life would soon be over, and I would be alone.

"I don't want to say goodbye," I tell him. I know I'm crying, and it hurts, to love someone so much. "I don't want you to just be a story in my head."

His wrinkled, wasted hand weakly grasps my own, and I can see, in his eyes. That kindness, that spark of curiosity. That love.

"We're all stories in the end, Clara." He tells me. It's something I've heard before. I can't remember where. "Promise me something."

"Anything," I say through my tears.

"Find him. Find your Doctor."

"I can't. Not without you."

"You don't need me, Clara. You're magnificent. You're wonderful, you impossible girl," he whispers endearingly, and smiles with wrinkled lips that I have kissed I know not how many times.

He slips off into sleep, and I fall asleep next to him, my head rested on the bed, my hand grasped tightly in his.

And when I wake up, he's gone.

I stay long enough for the funeral. I place the flowers on his grave, and I leave. I get in my TARDIS and I fly away. I can't look back. I can't allow myself to mourn, because it hurts too much. I have to keep running, just as the Doctor would do. But I don't know where to run to.

Nothing holds any interest for me. And then it hits me.

I want to go home.

I land on Gallifrey, and there it is. My house, looking just as it always has. That front yard with the red grass and the silver tree with my swing. I walk down the white garden path, breathing in the scent of the dazzling white flowers with the shining silver leaves that line my path home. And I go through the blue front door that always means coming home.

As soon as I walk in, I feel it. I feel the wonderful feeling of being home.

"Dad?" I call out.

And there he is, my dad. My wonderful, wonderful father. Looking a bit older, but just exactly the same. And before I know it, I'm in tears, and I throw myself in his arms, clinging to him like there's no tomorrow.

"Hey, hey, sweetheart, it's okay."

I just cry, and cry, and cry. He holds me tightly, knowing something terrible has happened. He doesn't know exactly what, but he knows I need him.

He takes care of me, and I finally let myself go. I let myself just not care, I am selfish. I let myself mourn. I let my dad take care of me, as only dads can. He never asks me what's wrong, or what's happened. I haven't seen him since before I regenerated, and he doesn't question that, either. He knows it's me, though. Time Lords always know.

He's just simply _there for me_, and I love him for that.

It's weeks before I can surface, before I can even breathe for my grief. In my nightshift, I walk around the garden, and watch the suns set and the mountains shine. I watch the sparkling Citadel of the Time Lords in its glass dome, so oddly familiar after all I have seen. It looks exactly the same, and yet looks so different to my travel-weary eyes.

How do you do it? How do you travel so much, see so much, love so much, and never come home? How do you run, and run, and run, and never stop?

As I watch the second sun set, I think of you. I think of my childhood, and I think of all the things I have seen and learned. I watch as the stars come out, and I identify the ones I have been to. I think of all the wonderful things I have seen on those stars. I try not to think how many of those I have seen with Rory.

I stay out all night, laying on the red grass, feeling the ground cooling beneath my fingertips, watching the stars. I drift in and out of consciousness, and I think of Rory, and I think of the stars, and I think of you.

I'm so much older now. I'm tired. I almost wish, sometimes, that I had died with Rory. I have seen so much, and yet there are so many things I have yet to see. I don't want to stop running, and yet all I want to do is stop.

I need you, chin boy. I need you so much. If only you could remember me.

_Run you clever boy, and remember me._

* * *

_A/N: REMEMBER TO LEAVE A REVIEW! :)_


	7. Jelly Babies and Jammie Dodgers

**-REMEMBER ME-**

CHAPTER SEVEN

_Jelly Babies and Jammie Dodgers_

Slowly, I begin to heal. I begin to be able to do more things. I go for walks. I read. I clean. I cook for my father, and try to perfect my mother's soufflé. I never can get it quite right. How I miss my mother's soufflés.

Her death still hurts, even after all this time. Even more, now. Now that I'm older, and wiser, and am able to fully appreciate her loss.

It's at least a year before I can even tell my father what happened.

When I finally am ready to talk about it, he listens. He listens, and he holds me when I cry. I try to be strong, now. Again. I am slowly regaining my strength. With every word spoken, it feels as though something poisonous is being expelled from me. With every word I speak, I feel stronger, and I feel better.

"I should have told you sooner," I say, when I have finished with my story.

"You talked when you were ready to talk," he says. "Don't ever force it."

I fall asleep on his shoulder that night, and he puts me to bed and tucks me in like I'm a little girl again.

Maybe I am.

And as the second sun rises the next morning, it feels like a new day. It feels like the first day of a new life.

And it is.

Because this is the day you come home.

You've changed your face again.

You're burning through those lives of yours, Doctor.

You're quite endearing this time, though, Doctor. With that wonderful, toothy smile and that scarf that's a million miles long and that floppy hat atop dark curls. With your bright eyes that hold such enjoyment of life. You're absolutely charming, and adorable. You're like a big kid, and it's quite possibly your best look yet.

You're the talk of Gallifrey, as per usual. You do like to make an entrance, don't you, Doctor? You're quite the public scandal. You can't go anywhere, it seems, without getting yourself into trouble. You've been blamed for the assassination of the Lord President.

I know you didn't do it. How could you have done it? You're not capable of such a thing. I know you, Doctor. You don't destroy. You fix. Right? I have faith in you, my Doctor.

And you run around and you fix it, and you're cleared of all charges with a profuse apology.

See? I knew you didn't do it.

After you've been cleared of all charges, and you've won. At least, everyone thinks the Master is gone, but you know better. You spend days and days in the Academy library, researching.

For the first time since our very early days at the Academy, I actively seek you out.

I make you tea, and some Jammy Dodgers. It inexplicably feels fitting. I know you like Jammy Dodgers, but how I know that, I'm not sure.

You're surrounded by piles and piles of books. Your floppy hat lies discarded on a chair, used to keep a pile of ancient-looking papers in place. And you yourself, your curly hair is on end from you running your hands through it so much. Your miles-long scarf is thrown over your shoulders, draping over the back of your chair and dusting the ground. A half-eaten bag of Jelly Babies sits on a table near you.

You barely notice me as I set the tea tray precariously on a pile of books.

"Doctor," I say, and you glance up, before doing a double take.

"I'm sorry, I'm rather busy," you say, your voice deep and musical. You sound a bit impatient, and I know you haven't the patience to stand on ceremony. But you try to be polite.

"I know," I explain. "I just thought you might want some tea."

You eye the tea and the Jammy Dodgers with a bit of disdain, your eyebrows come together. Okay, _not _Jammy Dodgers then. But you look at me, and you smile. And I feel as if I'm forgiven for not giving you the food you like.

"Thank you. From the bottom of my hearts," you say. And you probably think I don't notice the hint of sarcasm, but I do. I frown as you go back to your books.

I hesitate, torn. You've just obviously dismissed me. But I can't leave yet. It's the thought of Rory, and his last words to me, that make up my mind. I sit down in an empty chair next to you.

"Look, I really am rather busy," you say irritably.

I bite my lip, and am silent for a moment.

"You don't remember me, do you?" I say softly.

You look up at me then. You _really_ look at me, bright blue eyes meeting mine across a stack of books. There's a flicker of partial recognition in your eyes. A flicker of _something._

Something that has to do with me, but doesn't have to do with _me._

"Should I?" you say. I smile sadly which clearly says _yes_. You frown. You set aside your book, a big, heavy, tattered thing, and finally pay me your full attention.

"You never do remember me, do you?" I ask softly. Your eyes are compassionate, but you don't understand it any more than I do. We're both a puzzle to one another, a conundrum that won't be solved until you're another seven regenerations along. "I wish you did remember me."

_Run you clever boy, and remember me._


	8. Reunion

**-REMEMBER ME-**

CHAPTER EIGHT

_Reunion_

"Have we met before?" you ask. I nod.

You sigh, your eyebrows drawn together, and you pour the tea for both of us. You take yours with lots of cream and lots of sugar. I tip two sugars in mine and a bit less cream than yours.

I can't help but notice you wait until I drink before you do.

"It's not poisoned," I tell you with a smile.

"There are many who would have me dead right now. Where the Master is involved, it's best not to trust anyone."

"I'm not working for the Master," I say.

You take a good long look at me, and finally you drink your tea.

"If the Master wanted to kill me, he'd do it in a way that is much more showy than poisoned tea."

I laugh. You smile with me, a sparkle in your eyes.

"You seem to have me at a disadvantage," you say.

"You still don't recognize me?" I ask. You shake your head. It's time to come clean, I realize. After all this time. My heartbeats pick up slightly, and I take a deep breath. "We played together as children. Remember?"

The smile fades from your face, and your eyes go wide. And you look at me now, and you really, _really _look at me.

"_Clara?_" you breathe. You finally see me, after so long. "Is it you?"

I smile.

"It _is_ you, isn't it?" And you smile in wonder. "You're Clara! My Clara! Look at you! _Goodness_, how you've grown."

And then, suddenly, the past two hundred years or so don't matter anymore to me, and for you, however long it's been for you, though I know it's been even longer, they don't matter to you, either.

Your research completely forgotten, I suddenly find myself in your arms, and you're hugging me like there's no tomorrow. You're hugging me like we've never been apart, like we're still eight years old. You're laughing, and I'm crying. My tears run into your beautiful scarf, but you don't seem to mind.

"I've missed you," I say to you, my arms wrapped tight around your middle, the biggest smile on my face.

"You've regenerated," you say, after you pull back slightly to look at me. Your hand comes up to my cheek, as though that was where it belonged, where it had always belonged and always will belong.

"So have you," I laugh. You laugh, too, a deep chuckle that vibrates right through me, filling me up whole in a way that I hadn't felt since Rory died. And your smile lights up my entire world. "I saved you, do you remember?"

You hesitate. You're running through a dozen different memories in your head, and there's a hint of something, but I'm not quite sure what it is. Your arms tighten around me, as if you're afraid to let me go. As if you've lost me already, even though I'm right here. "I'm ashamed to say I don't recall."

My first feeling is a sense of disappointment. Because all I've ever wanted was for you to remember me.

"That's how it happened," I tell you. "It was the Daleks. On Earth. I died to save you."

You look slightly uncomfortable that you still don't remember. And you look so very sorry that you don't, which is why I've already forgiven you.

"I'm sorry," you say, and you look properly ashamed. "I really am terribly sorry."

I smile, and hug you tight again. "It's alright, Doctor."

I let you go, and we both sit down again. And you're looking at me with a bright wonder that I haven't seen on your face since we were eight years old.

And you ask me what I've been up to, how my life has been, what have I done? And I hesitate to tell you everything, because the loss is still so fresh in my mind. But you know I'm holding back, and you poke and you prod and I end up telling you everything.

And you listen, oddly, even though it's not really you to sit and listen. I know the only reason you're doing so is because it's me, and you feel like you owe me. Maybe it's because you're genuinely curious. Maybe it's for a reason I hope beyond hope is real, but I don't dare tread on that line of thought.

And you comfort me. You give me advice, because you're wise and clever and you've been there before. You've loved and lost and know exactly how it is that I feel. You don't tell me it was a mistake, that I never should have let myself fall in love in the first place, because you know that such a thing is impossible to stop.

And you tell me of your own stories, you tell me all the adventures you've had, you tell me of the people you've loved and lost.

You tell me of Sarah Jane, that your hearts are still broken over leaving her. You tell me that you had no choice, because humans aren't allowed on Gallifrey.

But there's more to it than that, I know. Because after my story about Rory, I can see in your eyes, though you say nothing, you have no intention of going back for her. You don't want to watch her grow old and die the way I did with Rory. You know that you won't be able to help falling in love with her any more than you already have. Even if falling in love with her just means you're the best of friends.

I know that you're running away from Sarah Jane, because that's what you do. I know you're running away from the potential pain, because you think you're not strong enough to take it. You think it's better this way.

The only thing I can do is hold your hand.

_Run you clever boy, and remember me._


	9. Remember You

**-REMEMBER ME-**

CHAPTER NINE

_Remember You_

I'm not sure if what you're doing is the right thing or not, I can't tell what's right and wrong with you. Maybe it's better that way. I only know that this way will cause you less pain.

You hold my hand tighter than completely necessary, and because of that I know you're hurting more than you care to admit.

And after we're both done talking, and our tea has gone cold, we just sit together for a few moments. Taking in everything said between us, realizing that, quite suddenly, and without even asking, we've both become each other's confidant.

We've only just found our way back to each other, and we're still reeling for the shock and happiness of that. But suddenly we've become best friends again, as if we spent no time apart at all. It's wonderful.

And you smile at me, and ask me to help you with your research, and I do.

"What are we researching?" I ask you as I open a book.

"The Sash and the Rod of Rassilon," you say.

I think I take you by surprise as you start digging back through your books and I pull out the small computer I always take with me, and tell you exactly what book you can find the information in.

You stare at me with your mouth open. And I decide I love that look, and that I'm going to impress you at every available opportunity.

Silently, you open the book I tell you to, and you find your answer. And you grin, a goofy, toothy, I-can't-believe-you-did-that grin. You have your answer, and you know what Master is planning.

"That's it! That's it! Clara, you're a genius!"

And you jump up and down like a little kid. You put your jacket back on and you shove your hat on your head and throw your scarf over your shoulder. You pick up the Jelly Babies, and you pause for a moment in your enthusiasm. You place them in my hand, and you lean in and kiss me on the forehead.

I swear my hearts have exploded. You smile at me, and then you run out, leaving me with this big stupid grin on my face. You look back over your shoulder at me as you reach the doorway, and we share a silly smile.

It's my only comfort in the hours to come.

You fight the Master, and you win. But it comes at a cost. Lives are lost, so many lives. Half of the Citadel is destroyed.

And me. I die in an attempt to save you. The destruction has opened up great cracks, down, down, all the way through to the undercity, the Eye of Harmony.

And I die. Killed for protecting you. I can't remember what happened. I know there was a man, a Victorian looking man in a tall hat, and I know he would have poisoned your life. I died saving you from him.

You noticed this time.

You yelled my name as I fell. Your face was the last I saw, your scarf blowing in the wind, your hand outstretched as if you could save me through sheer force of will.

It's okay, Doctor. It was time for me to regenerate, anyway.

And I did it saving you. That's what I was born to do. That's okay.

I regenerate, alone, and in the dark. I've mucked it up again, I know. I feel woozy and sick and my head hurts _again._ And I'm remembering things I shouldn't know.

A big chin. A bow tie.

"_I suppose I'm the only one who really knows how I … feel about you … right now. How pretty you are. How smart and funny. And if I'm to be completely honest, I'm starting to like you in a way that is more than just…"_

"_You are beautiful! Beautiful, fragile human skin…like __**parchment!**__"_

"_Are you guarding me?"_

"_Well, yes. Yes! I suppose I am."_

"_Is this what you do? You crook your finger and people just jump in your snog-box and fly away?"_

"_It is not a snog-box!"_

"Run."

"_We must all be like ghosts to you."_

"_It's not a ghost story. It's a love story."_

"_Do you think I'm pretty?"_

"_No. You're too short and bossy and your nose is all funny."_

"_Brave heart, Clara."_

"Doctor."

"_You remind me of someone."_

"_Whoever she was, I'm not her, okay? I'm not going stand in place for a ghost."_

"_There was a girl, in the Dalek Asylum, we fought the Daleks and she died __**saving me**_**, **_and __**she was you.**__"_

"I have to save the Doctor."

"_All of time and space, anything that ever happened or ever will. Where do you wanna go, eh? What do you wanna see?"_

"_Something awesome."_

"Run."

"_And there was a girl in Victorian London who was a governess and a barmaid and we fought the Great Intelligence together and she died and __**she was YOU.**__"_

"_What are you, eh? A trick? A trap?"_

"Clara, shh, you're alright, you're fine. Shh, Clara, I'm here."

_Your deep, musical voice reaches my ears, but it gets mixed up on the way to my brain and your voice changes, and it's higher and impatient and beautiful and you're suddenly my Doctor. With a big chin and a bow tie._

"Doctor…"

"_What were you expecting, a body? No, bodies are boring. I've had loads of those. The tracks of my tears. That is the scar tissue of my journey through the universe. From Gallifrey, to Trenzalore."_

"_If I step in there, what happens to me?"_

"Clara, Clara. Stay with me, Clara."

"_The time winds will tear you into a million pieces. A million versions of you, living and dying all over time and space. Like echoes."_

"Run, you clever boy."

"_It's the only way to save him."_

"_But they won't be __**you.**__The real __**you **__will die."_

"_They'll be real enough to save him."_

"_Well, how about that? I'm soufflé girl after all."_

"_You will be scattered along my timeline like __**confetti.**__"_

"Clara!"

"_Run you clever boy, and remember me."_

* * *

_A/N: Okay, forgive me. I went a bit AU..well, a bit more than a bit. I hate to admit that I haven't actually _seen_ "The Deadly Assassin" yet and I probably got Canon all wonky there. But it was just so adorable having Clara help him figure him out and she needed to prove herself worthy as a sort-of companion to him. The only way I could figure out how to do that is by slipping Clara in there. I really sort of hope that, when I do finally get around to watching "The Deadly Assassin" they just show sort of fragments of the Doctor researching, that way there could be moments unseen by the camera where Clara could have slipped in. _

_Update: okay, I actually went and watched "The Deadly Assassin" last night, and boy did I oops. Not only is Tom Baker in various stages of taking his clothes off through the whole thing, which practically negates that awesome visual I had of him being the last thing Clara saw with his scarf blowing in the wind (he wasn't even outside, so there's no wind). He was also never in that awesome Library of Gallifrey I had pictured. God, my imagination practically just screwed Canon, eh? On the other hand, my imagination was more creative than Canon and a bit prettier. And by a bit I mean a lot. That's promising, eh? Maybe I could write for the show someday in the future. I've got some awesome ideas and monsters monsters in mind._

_Okay, I'm just getting overly ambitious now. I mean, I'm American, for Rassilon's sake._

_Did I really just say that?_

_...I did. Okay, taking a break from Doctor Who..._

_I know, basically the whole second half of this chapter is just quotes, but I wanted the sense of a dream-like flashback where Clara/readers didn't really get a sense of what was going on. She's remembering things she shouldn't, and she's unconscious. So, that explains that a bit. Hopefully. Anyway..._

_Please leave a review!_


	10. Feel Better, My Clara

_A/N: Okay, is it just me, or does everybody else totally want to see a lot more of Clara's dad in series 8, and want to learn how her mum died? I don't really honestly CARE about the Maitlands, give us more of Clara's family, Moffat!_

* * *

**-REMEMBER ME-**

CHAPTER TEN

_Feel Better, My Clara_

I hear bird song.

I'm wrapped in a fluffy cloud. No, bed sheets. I'm warm and comfy and in my bed. I don't remember a thing past when I regenerated. But here, now, I'm comfy and safe and warm.

The first thing that my new nose smells is the light scent of flowers, mingled with the scent of home. There's a faint scent of something else in the air, fading away even now. It smells like time and space. It smells like you.

I open my eyes. The first thing my new eyes see are the flowers on my bedside. Not Gallifreyan flowers, but flowers from Earth. White and green and purple and blue and red and beautiful.

There's a note, scribbled in your messy handwriting, in beautiful circular Gallifreyan.

_Feel better, my Clara._

_ -The Doctor._

I take a deep breath, smiling, filling my new lungs with the scent of your flowers. I sit up. The suns are shining through my window. In the distance, I can see the reconstruction of the Citadel already underway. I swing my legs over my bed, get up. I feel fresh and new.

I'm dressed in a white night gown, and I'm clean. I feel as though I've been reborn, and, really, I have been reborn.

I head to my dresser, and pick up the mirror which sits there.

My new face is very close to my first face, round and soft and funny nose and sweet eyes. I'm a bit darker in color, and the freckles from my last regeneration are gone. My hair is a soft honey blonde, with large soft curls framing my face, climbing up to the darker roots near my scalp. I'm shorter now, again. My curves are back, and I'm happy for that. I was getting sick of being a rail and nothing fitting me.

Speaking of which, I need new clothes.

My closet is full of clothes, but nothing holds my taste anymore. I liked _that,_ really? Ugh.

I throw on some clothes as a temporary measure, and head downstairs, intending to get in my TARDIS's wardrobe, which is much more extensive.

My dad is waiting for me in the living room.

"Clara!" He says, looking overjoyed to see me. He takes me in his arms and hugs me tight. "You're awake!"

"'m fine, dad, don't make a fuss," I say.

"I was worried about you," he says.

"I just regenerated, nothing to worry about."

There's something in his eyes, something he's not telling me, I can tell. He's worried, but hiding it for my sake.

"Was the Doctor here?" I ask him. He nods. He says nothing more, however. "And? Where is he?"

My dad looks slightly nervous. Now I know he's definitely hiding something. I prod him with a look. He sighs in resignation.

"He left once he knew you were going to be alright."

I try to hide my disappointment.

"Where did he go?" I ask.

My dad looks even more nervous and he shifts uncomfortably.

"He left Gallifrey."

It's hard to hide how hurt I am.

You left? Why did you leave? Why would you do that? I thought…

Well, I don't know what I thought. I don't know why I thought you might stick around.

No matter. I'll go after you.

"Did he say where he was going?"

"No."

Well, a challenge then. I like a challenge. That's new. That's alright. I like a challenge now. Challenges are cool.

Without another word to my father, I leave the house and go to my TARDIS. He follows me, looking pained and worried.

I ignore him, and I head to the wardrobe first, changing into some more suitable clothes. Short skirts and a denim jacket and frilly shirt. Lots of beaded necklaces and some red Chuck Taylors…but not just any Chuck Taylors. Chuck Taylors that give me a bit more height. Back to wearing high-heeled _everything._ It's annoying, being short.

Feeling much better and much more like myself, I head back to my console room, and my father is standing there, with that expression still on his face.

"You alright?" I ask him. "You look like you just swallowed a lemon."

He doesn't answer.

"I'm going to go find the Doctor," I tell him. He looks like he has no intention of leaving, so I shrug. I wouldn't mind him on board, if only to keep the inevitable loneliness at bay. He might cramp my style a bit, but that's alright. He's still my dad. "Coming with me, then?" I say, already plugging in the coordinates.

He avoids my eyes, examining the white floor instead.

"Hm. I don't like that white floor anymore. I might need to change the desktop theme. Something more colorful," I say aloud. "Purple. Yes. I want something _purple._ I think I'll change the Time Rotor's color." My dad says nothing. "You're oddly quiet," I comment. He stays silent. I shrug. "Well, whatever. Off we go!"

I pull the lever to take us off, but instead of the TARDIS's familiar grating sound, there's the sound of powering down, like she's sick, and the lights flicker off. My father and I are lit only by the white Time Rotor.

"Oh, no! No, what's wrong, girl?" I frantically start pushing buttons and pulling levers and tearing things apart looking for the problem. Sparks fly as I dash around the console attempting to identify the problem.

And then, there it is. I find it. The Timey-Wimey disintegrator is fried and the wiggly-cable is plugged in the wrong place. The Artron energy is frying up everything in it's path. She's being destroyed from the inside out. She's eating herself. The Eye of Harmony has been poisoned by its own power. Bad. Bad. _Very_ bad.

Panic fills me.

"No," I whisper.

She's had her wings clipped.

She'll never fly again.

_Run you clever boy, and remember me._

* * *

_A/N: P__lease, don't hate me for what happens in the next few chapters. It was necessary for the plot and character/relationship development, and, though it may seem out of character at first glance, I really don't think it's that out of character at all, because...well, you'll see. Spoilers. _

_Also, you must forgive me for my absolutely abysmal techno-babble. It's terrible. It's my first attempt at techno-babble, so it really just sort of...sucks. I tried. I really did try. I sincerely hope it's one of those things that gets better with practice, or my career as a science fiction writer is over before it started. _

_Please don't forget to leave a review!_


	11. Safe On Gallifrey

_A/n: Remember what I said about not hating me? Yeah, this is where that comes in._

**-REMEMBER ME-**

CHAPTER ELEVEN

_Safe On Gallifrey_

"NO!" I shout, angry beyond belief, completely distraught. "My SHIP!"

Something like this could not have happened on its own. Only someone with an intimate knowledge of a TARDIS could do this. Sabotage. Betrayal.

I round on my father, like an angry whirlwind.

"Who did this? _WHO DID THIS?"_ I shout at him.

He's silent. He looks so sad, and so pained. It stops my furious anger in it's tracks. At last, he meets my eyes, and his whole face screams the bearer of bad news.

"He said to tell you he's sorry," says my father.

And without another word, he turns and he leaves my now dying TARDIS.

"_NO!"_ I scream, the minute he's gone. I throw the nearest thing in my path at the door, and it shatters like sparks and falls to the floor. The TARDIS moans in complaint. "NO!"

The tears come hard and fast.

"No," I whisper, before I fall to my knees, sobbing. Every inch of my brand-new body aches with this betrayal, as it shakes with my tears. My hands clasp desperately at my hair, as I curl up under the console and just _sob._

It's not fair. It's not fair at all.

An unidentifiable amount of time passes before my tears finally run dry, and I'm able to crawl out from under the TARDIS console. And I'm angry, but my anger has fizzled out. Now, a determination fills me.

I'm not giving up without a fight.

With an angry, fierce determination, I attempt to fix the TARDIS, though I know it is unfixable. She's slowly dying and I can feel it. It wasn't unkind. You made sure she'd feel no pain. But you killed her. You killed my TARDIS.

The second I spark two cords together in an attempt to fix it, the hologram appears.

And there you are, your hat-covered head bent low, your multi-colored scarf trailing the ground. Your posture hunched, as though you are ashamed of yourself. You should be.

I would kill you if you were really here.

"Doctor," I say tersely. I know you can't hear me, that this is a pre-recorded message. But you look up at me, just the same, and your eyes are filled with sorrow and you look rightly and properly ashamed of yourself.

"Clara," you say sadly. I come to stand in front of your hologram, now even taller than before because I'm so short. I'm so mad at you at this moment that I feel as if I glare at your image hard enough, you'll feel it. You'll feel my absolute righteous anger, wherever you are.

"My Clara. I'm so sorry. By now you'll know what I did, and I've never been more ashamed of myself. My TARDIS will never forgive me for what I've done. And you...I know you will hate me for this forever. But I had to.

"You're safe on Gallifrey, Clara. I can't risk…" here you shift, and you sigh, and you fiddle with your scarf, looking down at your feet. You stick your hands in your pockets, and you look back up. "I had to do it, you must understand. I can't lose you again, Clara. My Clara. You seem so familiar. I know you better than I should. There's something off about you I can't put my finger on. You're different from anyone I've ever known."

I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about, and you're confusing me. But my anger at you is no less because you spew out meaningless nonsense. All you do is talk.

"I can't risk losing you. You are too important. You are safe on Gallifrey, Clara. You must stay on Gallifrey."

"You can't boss me around! You can't contain me like this! You can't do this!" I shout at your hologram, not caring that you can't hear me.

"I'm sorry."

And then without another word, you fuzz out, and you're gone.

_Run you clever boy, and remember me._

* * *

_A/N: Okay, I know, it does seem way out of character for the Doctor to kill a TARDIS, but this is the man who blew up Gallifrey and his own people, burned up a star just to say goodbye, committed genocide multiple times, contemplated killing a Star Whale, made Donna forget everything wonderful that happened to her to save her life (even though she probably rather would have rather died than forget), trapped River in a virtual life in a data core because he doesn't like endings, killed Soloman the Trader and the leader of the Sycorax, ran away from Jack because it hurt to look at him, wanted Amy to stay with him instead of her husband, wanted to just "keep" the Master locked away in his TARDIS, doomed Ursuala Blake to live out eternity as a face on a block of concrete...need I go on? _

_The Doctor makes some odd decisions based on a logic that is not entirely...well...logical sometimes. Or, for that matter, entirely ethical. His morality compass doesn't exactly point due North. He always treads that line between hero and villain, staying just on this side of hero. So I don't feel it's that out of character for the Doctor to kill Clara's TARDIS to keep her on Gallifrey, where he believes she's safe, where he can find her again, instead of allowing her to travel the universe, where any number of bad things could happen to her._

_And from his point of view, he's just found his childhood best friend again, and has become very attached to her in a short space of time, and already nearly lost her once (I should have clarified, Clara's regeneration didn't go exactly right and she was on the brink of death, but I couldn't figure out a way to do that in the story that didn't disrupt the flow. I understand now why Moffat leaves so many plot holes). And don't forget, there are other Clara's out there, watching his back, so it's no wonder that this Clara seems familiar to him, aside from their childhood affiliation. I want to make Clara a mystery BEFORE she was a mystery, if you get my drift. _

_And also, while I'm on the explaining things roll, I'm sure some of you are wondering "If Time Lady Clara and original Clara have the same name, and the same traits, and seem familiar to the Doctor, why didn't he make the connection earlier?" Well, first off, it's a big universe, and the Doctor meets a lot of people, some of which have the same names (Mel and Mels, anyone?). As for any other reason why he wouldn't make that connection...well...Spoilers. :)_


	12. Stuck

**-REMEMBER ME-**

CHAPTER TWELVE

_Stuck_

I scream my frustration to an empty room, screaming out obscenities, and curses, and just senseless jibberish, because I am so, so angry at you, and you couldn't even stay to give me a proper explanation as to _why._

_WHY?!_ Why did you do this? WHY?!

After I take out my frustration on the perfectly innocent TARDIS, throwing things and yelling and smashing, I spend hours attempting to fix what is impossible to fix. I won't be stuck here. I won't let you do this to me. I'm going to fly off, away from Gallifrey, and I'm going to chase you down and slap you into next week. Or the next century. Whichever one will hurt most.

I am absolutely _livid _with you. With every failed attempt to fix the Eye of Harmony, my frustration increases. With every hour that passes that I can feel the TARDIS Matrix fading, my desperation increases. And with every hateful thought that spews out of my head and out of my mouth, I begin to realize just how hopeless my cause is.

When I step outside the TARDIS again, filthy, covered with grease, my hair a mess and angry tear tracks on my face, it's dark again. As I look up at the sky, and see the twinkling stars, now beyond my reach, I can't stop the tears from flowing down my face.

Why would you do this to me?

I lean against the TARDIS, which is disguised as a statue, and just sob. Even now, when she's dying, she reaches out and tries to comfort me with her mind. She's such a young thing. She's too young to die. It's not fair.

An indefinable amount of time passes before I dry up my tears, and push myself away from the TARDIS, walking down the garden path.

I go back into the house, and my father is waiting for me. He looks worried. I don't yell at him. I can't. It's not his fault.

It's yours.

"How did I get back here?" I ask my dad in a soft, almost dead voice.

"He brought you. The Doctor. He took care of you," he says. He looks so worried about me. "He was worried. I was too. He said it wasn't quite right. That your regeneration went wrong. That it didn't go like it was supposed to. He took care of you. I thought you were going to…"

He trails off, and he says no more, but he just pulls me close, and I let him hug me for a moment. And then I leave him, and go to the garden, because I can't stand to be around him right now. Not when he let you kill my TARDIS.

It's not fair. I hate you more than I have ever hated you before. I _hate_ you.

How could you do such a thing? How could you have found it in your hearts to _kill_ a TARDIS for something so simple as _keeping me here?_ Why, Doctor? _Why?_ You could have just _asked,_ and I…probably wouldn't have listened. But you could have stayed and _explained. _

I'm trapped. Stuck on Gallifrey.

Because of _you._

They will not grant me another TARDIS. I cannot steal one, like you did.

I cry the day they take my TARDIS away, haul it away to the junkyard like it's just a broken car and not a living thing. I hate you. I _hate _you.

It's years before I can get over my anger. It stews inside me, and now I walk around with a chip on my shoulder.

I can go nowhere, because of you.

I cannot sit at home and do nothing, so I go back to the Academy. I earn my doctorate. I learn a lot, but it is nothing compared to being out among the stars.

I can't help but think that, even if it is Gallifrey, and you, who hated school, and you think that the Time Lords are all so pretentious (which they are)…I can't help but think you would be proud of what I have achieved.

Even though I'm still so angry with you.

It's years before I can feel anything but loathing towards you.

I can't stop thinking about you. How much I miss you. How I'm going to slap you when we met again and then _hug_ you so tight because I _miss_ you so much.

You're going to get such an earful from me, and you're taking me with you. I'll not leave your side again.

And when you finally come back to Gallifrey, you declare yourself President.

It's such an odd move, even for you. You, who couldn't wait to leave Gallifrey…and now you want to be President? What has happened to you?

Once again, you've become the talk of Gallifrey. And you demand to have a rush put on it, declaring yourself President with the ceremony to be set up as soon as possible. You have every right, but it's suspicious.

I've been staying in the Citadel recently, because it's closer to the Academy than my dad's estate. So it makes it easy for me to observe what's going on, and it makes it incredibly easy for me to sneak into your chambers the night before your ceremony.

I know I probably shouldn't have, but I need to see you. So badly.

And this time, I know you'll remember me.

_Run you clever boy, and remember me._

_A/N: Up next, is The Invasion of Time, which, btw, was actually featured in "The Name of the Doctor" you know, for as many plotholes as are in "The Invasion of Time" I can see why Moffat put it in TNOTD because Clara being there fixes a lot of those up. Oh, btw...The Invasion of Time was awesome, i think. It fits in so well with what I've written the next few chapters...plus Tom Baker is awesome. Is it bad if I've totally fallen in love with his Doctor? Not even kidding. He might be my favorite after David Tennant and Matt Smith._

_ ...and you know, after series 7B and while I've been writing this story and watching all the old Classic Who episodes featured in "The Name of the Doctor" ...I'm convinced that Time Lady Clara being important to the Doctor is Moffat's own personal head canon. :P_

_Anyway, please leave a review! Reviews keep me writing!_


	13. Secrets

**-REMEMBER ME-**

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

_Secrets_

It's late at night, and you should be asleep. But you're not.

You're wide awake, and pacing.

Tomorrow is your ceremony. Why aren't you sleeping?

"Doctor," I whisper to you, cracking open your door.

You jump about a mile, and turn to me. You do not smile when you see me, your face set instead into a look of grim determination. I'm still so angry with you, but you look so _odd_ and _old_ and afraid and sad and alone at that moment that I can't find it in myself to be angry with you like I planned.

"Doctor, can I come in?"

You stiffly nod your head, gesturing for me to shut the door behind me.

I do so, and enter your chambers. You stop your pacing, and just stand there. Your shoulders are hunched. Something is wrong.

"Are you alright, Doctor?" I ask you. You look me in the eye this time, but you're obviously distracted.

"Yes, yes. Fine. Perfectly alright."

"What is it, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," you say. And then you sit on the bed and put your head in your hands. You look so odd, devoid of your scarf and your regular clothing. Dressed in simple-but-elaborate Time Lord clothing. You look so alone.

I come to sit next to you, and your shoulders slump. I say nothing, because I'm not sure whether you just need company or you need comforting words. I smile, pick up the white bag off your nightstand, and hand it out to you.

"Jelly Baby?" I offer you.

And you smile. A smile that lifts your sadness, and with that my hearts lift. You take an orange Jelly Baby, and so do I. We're silent for a long moment after we've finished our candies.

"Why are you here?" you finally say.

"Because I heard you were back. And I wanted to see you."

"Why?" you ask, sounding so miserable. I smile sadly.

"Well, because I was going to slap you into your next regeneration."

"I'd deserve it," you say softly. Though I mean because of what you did to my TARDIS, your tone suggests that you mean in general.

I'm worried about you.

"What is it, what's wrong, Doctor?" I ask, more insistently. You just slump, and place your head in your hand.

"Ask me no more, Clara. It's nothing to do with you."

Well, rude.

"But Doctor—"

Suddenly you turn to me, and you take your hands in mine, gripping them tightly. Your eyes are wide, and afraid. You look at me right on, with a desperate urgency.

"Clara, you must promise me something."

"What?"

"Promise me, you must promise me."

"_What?"_

"You must get out of the Citadel. You must go home," you say, placing a hand over my hair.

I give you a dirty look.

"I'm not leaving you."

"You must."

I rip my hand from yours, suddenly angry. I stand up, and point an accusing finger at you.

"I'm not leaving you so you can run off again without explaining anything at all! I'm _not_ going to leave you so you can just run away after _destroying_ my life!"

You wince at this. As you should. I glare at you and you look properly ashamed.

You close your eyes, looking pained for a moment, you seem to be struggling with something, before your eyes fly wide open and you stand up, gripping me tightly by the shoulders, your eyes slightly mad, as if you're fighting off a great pain.

"It's dangerous here," you say. "You must go home, Clara. Please."

My eyes widen.

"What do you mean, it's _dangerous?_ How's it dangerous? What aren't you telling me?"

"I can't tell you! You must go home!"

"Why?"

You shake your head, and let me go. You walk away, turning your back, your posture stiff.

"Go home, Clara," you say, your voice slightly pained. "Go home."

"No."

You whip around, and your expression is cold.

"I don't want you here. I want you to go home."

I'm hurt by this statement for only a moment before I see right through it.

"I'm _not_ leaving you!"

"I don't want you around!" you yell, suddenly angry. "I don't want to see you! You think I like having you tagging along after me like a little lost puppy? Well, I don't like it! I've already got a tin dog, you see! I don't need some silly, useless girl as well! I want you to leave me alone and not come back!"

My mouth falls open and I gasp. You swallow as you look into my eyes, and something flickers in your eyes, but your expression remains neutral. Cold, and neutral. And it feels like a stab to the hearts. It hurts and suddenly I feel like crying. I'm not going to take that one lying down, no matter how much it hurts.

"How dare you…?"

You say nothing, only looking at me with cold eyes.

"You are the most insufferably arrogant, overbearing, patronizing_, bean-tin!"_ I yell at you, tears pricking my eyes. You purse your lips, looking mildly insulted. You screw your face up in anger, and take another step towards me.

"And _you_ are the most stubbornly frustrating, silly, unreasonable girl I've ever met!"

My mouth falls open in anger.

"So you want me to leave you?! You're doing a damn fine job of working on it!"

"Good! Listen, why won't you to just go away and leave me alone!"

"Arrogant pig!"

"Impossible woman!"

"I have _had_ it with your secrets!"

Suddenly you grab me by the arms and shake me, looking frustrated.

"_Secrets_ protect us! _Secrets_ keep us safe!"

_**Bam!**_

_Suddenly I see you, you with a different face. You with a big chin and a bow tie. We're standing on a walkway underneath a dying star, trapped, and we're going to die. There's a desperate urgency to your face as you yell at me angrily, as I demand answers from you._

"_**Secrets**__ protect us! __**Secrets**__ keep us safe!"_

I take a step back, tearing myself away from you. My hand flies to my head, as I'm overwhelmed with a sudden sense of déjà vu. I shake my head, trying to clear it.

You suddenly look very empty and alone, with your arms outstretched with no one to hold. It gives me a vindictive pleasure.

"Your secrets will end up getting us _killed_ one day," I say angrily. And with that, I turn on my heel and leave.

I don't see the heartbroken, troubled look on your face as I slam the door shut behind me.

_Run you clever boy, and remember me._

* * *

_A/N: The Doctor is not being mean just to be mean, just fyi. He's trying to protect her...and Tom Baker's Doctor uses reverse psychology a lot. (ex Arc in Space... with him calling Sarah Jane a weak pathetic girl to encourage her). _

_Just a bit of explanation, if you haven't seen Invasion of Time. The Varden (The bad guys...for the first two parts) are watching the Doctor's every move and thought, and are using him to help them (well, the Sontarans) invade Gallifrey. So by being mean to Clara and acting like he doesn't care about her, he's ensuring her safety so the Varden don't use her against him. Yes, Aw! It's sweet now, isn't it? And you thought I was just being mean, lol._

_Oh...and that "insufferable, arrogant, patronizing bean-tin" bit...that's pretty much a direct quote from Invasion of Time...K-9 called the Doctor that and the Doctor said he'd been called that before. So I thought is was just too perfect not to slide in there. :D _

_And, I might be in trouble. I'm only one chapter ahead in writing, so...eek! Squeaky bum time. I'm doing that horrible thing where I write things out of order again, and can't seem to put them together. And I don't want to put a hold on writing this story and then forget about it...because I've got so many plans that I have to express for it, and the ending is just such a tear-jerker that I just...ARGH. I hate real life. Why can't everyday be Doctor Who day? _

_My summer class has started and I'm DETERMINED to pass College Algebra this go round. So over the next two months real life might interfere with my writing. I'll squeeze stuff in whenever I can, but don't expect an update everyday anymore. Should have saved them, I know... I was just so excited to share... :( _

_Okay, and someone needs to stop me from listening to "Doomsday", "Rose's Theme", and "The Doctor's Theme" in that order on my iTunes, because it's giving me too many feels. It's like I'm determined to just be stuck in emotional heartbreak forever. Time to switch over to some Mozart or maybe Lady Gaga before I sob myself off a cliff..._

_Anyway, PLEASE leave a review so I know this story is read and loved! It'll keep me sane over the period of awful Algebra terribleness that is to come. _


	14. The Great Intelligence

_a/n: Holy Moley fifty reviews? You guys are epicly awesome. Keep 'em comin, baby! As The Moffat Man says, "To the next fifty!" Thanks so much guys, for all your fantastic support. Cheers!_

**-REMEMBER ME-**

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

_The Great Intelligence_

You're sick. You're Ill, they tell me. You collapsed at your ceremony when they placed the Matrix on your head.

I'm terrified for you. I'm so worried.

Alarms are going off as I run to the chambers they've taken you. They stop soon after, before I can get there. But I'm worried. What's happened? What's going on?

You're not in your chambers. You recovered. As I turn away from the door, I see a flash of multicolor scarf disappear around a corner, and I chase after you. You walk down a long hall, and the green wall is behind me as I run after you.

"Doctor!" I call. But you pay me no mind. You just keep walking. Why are you ignoring me? I start to chase after you, but I stop abruptly, because I feel the sharp point of a knife at my back.

I freeze, and put my hands up in the air.

"Who are you?" hisses a voice in my ear. "You are not dressed as a Time Lord."

"I should think not! Terrible dress sense, Time Lords," I respond.

The knife digs further in my back and I realize now is not the time to mess around.

"Your name!"

"Clara," I say. "I mean you no harm."

The knife withdraws from my back, and I turn around. She's dressed like a savage, this woman. Her eyes are wild, like she's thinking of all the different ways she could possibly kill me. I eye the point of her knife warily.

"That's the problem with you Time Lords. You are all so _passive._ You know not the meaning of battle! You would lie down and let anyone walk all over you!"

Ah. A warrior race. Or, at least, one who is not opposed to violence.

"Well, you're right there," I say, shrugging. "Time Lords are a rather passive bunch. Rather boring, as well."

"You speak like the Doctor," she says. I perk up, gasping.

"You're a friend of the Doctors'?" I ask. She appears slightly surprised.

"I am. I travel with him."

I smile. "What's your name?"

"I am Leela," she says, drawing herself up to her full height. "Member of the tribe of Sevateem."

"Ah," I say, struggling to place where she was from for a moment.

"Who are you?" asks Leela.

"I'm an old friend of the Doctor's," I explain. She still appears suspicious. I frown. "Though after last night he's definitely gotten on my bad side." Leela frowns suspiciously, gripping her knife tightly. "Joking. Sort of. We had an argument. Nevermind. Not important anymore. What's important is that I'm on your side, Leela. I'm on the Doctor's side."

Slowly, Leela lowers her knife, and puts it away.

"Thank you," I say softly. Leela nods her head in acknowledgement. "Do you know what the Doctor is planning?"

"I do not know. The Doctor has banished me," she says. I'm taken aback by this.

"What on Gallifrey for?" I ask.

"I do not know!" she says, becoming frustrated.

"There must be a reason for it," I say, attempting to rationalize this odd decision in my mind. Why would you _banish_ your companion on an alien world? "The Doctor has a plan. He _must_ have a plan."

Though I have no idea what it is that your plan might be, Doctor, but I trust you. I've always trusted you. And now I must restore faith to your companion.

"Listen to me, this is important. You have to trust him. Do what he says. If he wants you banished, outside the city, then there must be a reason for it. You must do as he tells you. You have to trust him."

"Of course I trust him!" says Leela proudly.

"Good. Trusting the Doctor will keep you alive," I say.

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I know that there's going to be trouble. That's right up there with "What could possibly go wrong?" Or "This is gonna be the best Christmas Waldorf I've ever had."

Sure enough, Leela's eyes widen, fixing on a point behind me.

I turn, and gasp. Suddenly I find myself thrown against the wall, a cane on my windpipe, and a leering face inches from mine.

I would gasp, if my air supply wasn't cut off.

Because I've seen his face before.

This man was the cause for my last regeneration.

He looks exactly the same, same leer, same Victorian attire, same top hat. And he's completely _alive_, which is wrong, so wrong, because I saw him die. I was _responsible_ for his death.

"We meet again," he snarls. "The girl who dies. This time, you will not defeat me."

"Who…are…you?" I manage to choke out.

He snarls, and leans in close, his lips an inch away from my ear. I shudder out of fear and disgust.

"_I am your enemy,"_ he whispers.

I can't help the terrified gasps that come from my throat, but what I can control is my knee. Coming between his legs. Hard, and swift.

He grunts, doubling over in pain. This time, I take control, and shove him against the wall with his own cane against his throat. Leela watches on with wide eyes, her knife out, prepared to throw.

"Run," I tell her. I can tell already she's going to disobey. "I can handle this, Leela. _Run!_ You have to go after the Doctor! You have to do as he says! Now_ run!"_

After a torn glance between me and my enemy, she finally does as I tell her, and leaves, leaving just me and _him._

"Now, you're gonna tell me _who you are_. Properly!"

The man makes a grab at me, but I push him harder against the wall, cane digging into his windpipe. He stops struggling as his lips start to turn purple.

"The … Great…Intelligence…" he gasps out.

"What the hell is that?" I demand. "_Answer me!"_

But it's too late, I've pushed him too far. His face goes pale, his lips go purple, and I watch as he dies right in front of me before disappearing into thin air.

I jump back as though burned. The man's clothes crumple in a heap upon the floor. The cane falls with a clatter as it slips from my grasp.

Oh, my stars.

I killed him.

_Run you clever boy, and remember me._


	15. Sontaran

**-REMEMBER ME-**

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

_Sontaran_

I stand in shock for a few moments, eyes wide, staring at the pile of clothes, before I stumble back.

Who was that man? What did he mean, the Great Intelligence? My enemy? What does that even mean?

This is twice now I've encountered him, twice now I've defeated him. Twice that he has died, because of me.

How is it possible for someone to die _twice?_

It appears I have a little more than a mystery on my hands, and a dangerous one at that. One I'm not so sure I'm keen to figure out.

Whoever the Great Intelligence is, they're not friendly towards me. And if someone can die and come back, _twice,_ then they can come back a third time.

I have the feeling I will encounter the Great Intelligence, whoever they are, again.

And when I do, it will be the death of me.

_The girl who dies._

What did he mean? How can I have died?

I hear footsteps approaching me, and I look up in fear. Before someone spots me, I run for it.

I run all the way home, to my father's estate.

I've decided that you wanted me safe, the Doctor wanted me to go home, so I must go home. Given my scare with the Great Intelligence, I'm not keen to argue anymore. If it's dangerous in the Citadel, then I must get out. I trust you. I have to trust you.

But it's no sooner that I arrive home that I realize the one place I need to be was the place I just left.

"Did you hear?" my dad says, his eyes wide with fear after he hugs me. "Sontarans have invaded Gallifrey! They're at the Citadel, right now! I was so worried about you!"

"I'm fine, I'm safe, dad," I say reassuringly. "But the Doctor isn't."

You're in danger, and now that I know what that danger is, I regret that I ever left your side. I abruptly turn around, and my dad shouts at me.

"Where are you going?"

"Back to the Citadel! I have to save the Doctor!"

"Clara, no!"

But I don't listen, because the sole thought on my mind is to save you.

By the time I get back, it's almost over, and I see you. You're in the Panopticon, casually sitting on a wall, a forbidden Time-Lord weapon in your hands.

The De-Mat gun.

A gun with the power to erase anyone from all of Time.

And you've got it pointed directly at the Sontaran commander.

"Hold it, Stor," you say, and I poke my head out from my hiding place, watching the scene with wide eyes and knowing if I interfered I'd end up getting killed.

"Doctor," says the Sontaran, Commander Stor. His eyes are alight with glee as he spots you, positive he will finish you off. He holds out a device. "The grenade will give me a lot of pleasure."

"You'll destroy us all," you say casually. And you're right. The Panopticon is the heart of the Matrix, and if there's a big boom there…well, Gallifrey and the galaxy it sits in is done for.

"Yessss," says Commander Stor, with complete disregard for the lives he's about to waste. My mouth falls open in horror. "It is a glory to die! For the glorious Sontaran Empire!"

"But you'll destroy this entire galaxy," you say, still completely calm.

"Yes! And all of the Time Lords with it!"

"And your battlefleet?"

"Yes, Doctor. But it is a small price to pay! If we cannot control the power of the Time Lords, then we shall destroy it! Goodbye, Doctor!"

And he makes ready to set off the grenade. I gasp, terrified, preparing for my imminent death, but then, something stops him.

You fire the de-mat gun.

There's a bright flash of light, and I cover my eyes, diving into a cupboard. But you are not so lucky. You're right at the heart of it, and there's no way you could have escaped. As soon as the light has receded, I dive out of the cupboard and run to you.

"Doctor!"

You've fallen to the floor, knocked out by the trans-mat gun. I run to you, and kneel down, place a hand on you. You're still alive, and breathing. A wave of relief so powerful hits me that I start to shake.

"Doctor, wake up," I say, shaking you. You do not stir. "Doctor!"

With a great heave, I turn you over. You moan.

"Doctor, wake up!" I say, placing a hand on your cheek. Your face twitches, and your eyes flutter open. I smile in relief. "Doctor!"

"Clara?" you moan. "What happened?"

"You did it!" I grin. "You saved Gallifrey!"

"Did I?" you mutter. You groan, and I help you sit up. "Well, that's nonsense. I don't—" then you look at me, and your eyes twinkle. "I saved Gallifrey, you say?"

I nod, smiling.

"Well, how about that," you smile, and straighten your hat. Then you laugh. "Saved Gallifrey. What nonsense."

"Well you did!" I say, surprised. "You don't remember?"

"Remember what, Clara? There's nothing to remember. Don't be so nonsensical."

"You really don't remember a thing?" I ask, unable to stop smiling because you did it, you saved the day. "Becoming President? The Varden? The Sontarans?"

"Sontarans? On Gallifrey?!" you say, surprised, looking around. "Where—! Oh," You look at me with a twinkle in your eye. "I saved Gallifrey, you say?"

"Yes, you did, you ridiculous man."

You smile then, all bright teeth and happiness. You saved the day, and you still get that feeling even if you don't remember. And all of a sudden I just can't help myself. I grab you by that scarf of yours and pull your lips onto mine and kiss you.

Your hand flies to you hat and your eyes fly up in surprise, but you don't pull away.

It takes you a couple of seconds to overcome your surprise, but eventually you kiss me back, your arms coming around me, and you pull me closer, wrapping around me perfectly like a warm blanket, covering our kiss with your hat. We're like two pieces coming together, and everything is suddenly completely right with the world.

And when we pull away, we share a smile that lights up the whole room.

"Well, that's something worth celebrating, I suppose," you say with a toothy grin.

I let out a giggle and you smile, pulling me in for another kiss.

Because everything is suddenly right with the world again.


	16. Come With Me?

**A/N:**_ After a bit of deliberation, I have come to a decision._

___I have decided that I'm going to split this story into three parts, or Acts. So, therefore, consider this chapter the end of Act I._

_I've made this decision for several reasons. One, because I'm way behind on writing this and I've not got a whole lot written past this point... two, for the sake of my sanity, it will allow me to 'start fresh' story-wise... four, no, hold on, three (:P), I'm going to pass my Algebra class this summer, I WILL...four, I need a break to organize my thoughts on this story, and finally, it makes the most sense to do this, to make this story flow a bit better._

_Also, thanks to this clever little scheme of mine, I will now have time to take an intermission of sorts, to do all of the above. _

_THIS IS NOT THE END. As Arnold Schwarzenegger once said, "I'll be back."_

_ I shouldn't be gone for too long, I promise to keep writing. As soon as I feel I'm far enough ahead, I'll start posting again. I also will NOT post a whole new story (that would be stupid, I'd loose half my readers AND all of my nice pretty reviews), I will continue posting on this story here. _

_(Eugh, did I just say "this here?" Eek, I've lived in the South too long. Before I know it I'm going to start liking grits and talkin' with an ac-cent. I mean, as soon as I started saying 'Y'all" and "Fixin' to" in casual speech and not realizing there was anything wrong with that, I should have realized I was becoming too Southern. Somebody, get me to London. Quick. Before I become one of those wanna-be poser Cowgirls I hate so much. I have been eyeing a sexy pair of cowgirl boots...somebody stop me.)_

_PROMISE I'LL BE BACK!_

_So, don't forget this story! REMEMBER IT! (:P ha, ha see what I did there?)_

_~gfg_

* * *

**-REMEMBER ME-**

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

_Come With Me?_

Two months later, I am in the kitchen of my house, baking another soufflé. Everything has settled down quite nicely, though I miss you more than ever. I feel as if I am waiting. Waiting for you.

I sit at the table, double checking my mother's recipe, and that's when I hear it.

_Shwoosh._

_Shwoosh._

_Shwoosh._

My ears perk up. My hearts pound in my chest. My eyes go wide as I set down the recipe.

_Ble-e-ep! Ble-e-ep! Ble-e-ep!_

The biggest smile spreads across my face, and I jump up, running out of the kitchen, past my dad, who looks up in surprise from his newspaper, calling after me "Where are you going?!" I run out the front door, my soufflé completely forgotten and left burning in the oven.

And there it is, sitting on my garden path amongst the flowers of Gallifrey.

The blue Police Public Call Box.

I smile even wider and a giggle of pure happiness escapes my throat.

And then the doors squeak open, and you step out, scarf trailing the ground, hat on square, and the biggest toothy smile I've ever seen on your face as your eyes meet mine. I run to you, and you run to me, and we meet up in the middle, throwing our arms around each other and laughing out of pure joy as you pick me up off the ground, twirling me around, scarf ends flying.

"Master!" I hear. Behind you, a metal dog glides out of the TARDIS, wagging its tail. "Mistress!"

"Oh, bugger off K-9!" you say, waving your hat at the dog like he's a bother and wrapping your arm tighter around me.

"That is not my primary function, Master!"

"Oh, get off, you daft metal dog."

"Oi! He's cute! Be nice to him!"

K-9 wags his tail.

"Mistress is kind! Master should listen to Mistress!"

"Oh, shut up, K-9," you say with a smile, your eyes twinkling.

"Silence mode activated!"

You set me down, and grin at me, placing your hat back atop your curls.

"So, what do you think?" you ask me with a smile.

"What do I think of what?" I ask.

You tilt your head back, towards your TARDIS, and you smile, your eyes alight.

"Come with me?" you ask.

It's everything I've ever dreamed. And I smile, tears springing to my eyes and laughter bubbling to my lips.

"Yes. Yes, yes, yes, _yes!"_ I say enthusiastically, pulling you in for another hug. I tug on your hand, and pull you into the TARDIS, more than ready to have the adventure of a lifetime.

You grin, and laugh, not bothered that I'm pulling you along instead of the other way around. We hop into the TARDIS, and the blue doors shut behind us. K-9 stands forgotten outside.

"Master!"

You open the doors, and let K-9 in, before snapping them shut.

And in the world I've left behind, my dad steps out of the blue front door, and watches, his eyes open wide, as the TARDIS dematerializes from my garden.

_Run you clever boy, and remember me._

**-END OF PART I-**

_The Doctor, Clara, and K-9 will return in Remember Me, Part II_

_...coming soon._


	17. PART II TEASER

**A/N:** _So, this isn't a new chapter. Sorry. This is more along the lines of a "Coming Soon Trailer" because I've written a lot, and I'm about 5,000 words from being finished. I'm a bit worried I'm losing you guys, because it's almost been a month since I last updated. So, I thought I might whet your appetites with a little bit of a teaser about what's to come in Part II. Just to let you guys know I have not abandoned this story. It should be a few weeks more yet till I'm ready to post the next chapter, but until then, there's this! _

**COMING SOON…**

. . .

"So! All of time and space! Anything that ever happened, or ever will! Where do you wanna go? The future, the past? Planets, stars? What do_ you _wanna see, Clara?"

. . .

"I want to see…something awesome."

. . .

"Here's your awesome, Clara. It doesn't get more awesome than this."

. . .

"Safe? _Safe?!_ Of course it's—why would you ask such a silly question? Like I'd ever take you somewhere that wasn't _safe._"

. . .

"It's called Trenzalore."

. . .

"I'm sorry," the Tenth you says softly. "I shouldn't be telling you this, when you're off running around with younger me, having adventures and falling in love."

. . .

"Mas…ter…" K-9 says, slowly, before the lights in his eyes go off and he hangs his head.

. . .

But you can. You know exactly what you've done, and it will tear you apart. Oh, Doctor. My Doctor. I'm so sorry.

. . .

"I could never forget about you, Clara," you say softly.

. . .

And then the figure turns, and my breath stops short.

It's you.

Your eyes are rimmed with red. You scarf trails the ground. In your arms in the tiny bundle of blankets, and on your face is the saddest, happiest, most conflicted smile I'd ever seen.

"Oh, Clara. Why didn't you tell me?"

. . .

So I have to believe that someday, someday, you'll keep your promise to me. Someday, you'll come back.

. . .

"It's beautiful, Doctor," I say softly. You don't look up, eyes focused on the baby. You arrange the plush K-9 at the end of the blue silky blankets. "The cot. It's beautiful. It's old, isn't it? Really old. Where'd you get it?"

. . .

_Clara, I'm sorry. So sorry. I can't. I'm afraid._

_-The Doctor_

. . .

I lock eyes with her and gasp.

Because she is me.

. . .

"DOCTOR!" comes my muffled shout for help, before I succumb to the drug, my eyes rolling back into my head, and everything goes black.

. . .

"You will not thwart me this time, Clara Oswin Oswald," says a voice. I catch sight of gloved hands, a top hat.

. . .

"_The Great Intelligence comes to call, and that is when the Doctor falls. The girl who dies shall die again, and that is when the Doctor ends."_

_. . ._

"DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE ME, DOCTOR!"

. . .

"DOCTOR!"

. . .


	18. Prequel: Trenzalore

**A/N:** _Ah, hello again, dear readers! I apologize for, once again, getting your hopes up, but this is, once again, not the beginning of Part II, but instead a little bit of a gift for you all. Partially to remind you that I am still alive, and I am working very diligently on Part II. Tomorrow is my final for Algebra, so I should have more time to write. And I'm being a complete idiot by working on this instead of studying. But I do like to procrastinate. I think I know the material pretty well, though. Hopefully. Wish me luck! _

_Also, because Moffat's being a d*** and withholding the 50__th__ trailer from all of us who didn't go to comic-con. The *goes off on rant filled with lots of anger and curse-words you don't want to hear directed at Moffat/BBC*_

_But you know how it is. He'll give us a cookie and we'll practically worship the man's genius again. *sigh* not to mention fan-geek over the amount of awesomeness in the 50__th__. (OMG OMG DALEKS! DALEKS! TIME WAR! THREE DOCTORS! MOVIE-LENGTH! DAVID TENNANT! MATT SMITH! BILLIE PIPER! AHHHHH! AWESOMENESS!)_

_Okay, done now._

_Anyway, and so, for all of my dear readers, a bit more than a crumb. _

_For you all, I present to you a prequel._

_Enjoy!_

**-REMEMBER ME-**

PART II PREQUEL

_Trenzalore_

In the beginning, there was nothing.

No time, no space, no light.

Only darkness.

In this darkness, the only thing to have appeared, the only thing that existed, was a blue box that suddenly appeared out of nowhere. And two people watched as the heavens were created.

Stars, planets, time, space. All burst into existence.

And it spread, outwards like ripples in a pond. The universe, created in an instant.

And then the blue box disappeared.

Thousands, millions, eons, an undefinable amount of time later, it reappeared.

The young universe had grown in the box's absence. Life has appeared. Trees, plants, animals, and people. On young planets, ready and ripe to live.

One planet in particular is where our story starts. It was a young planet, but bursting with life.

It was the very first planet in all the universe.

And it was called Trenzalore.

The people on this planet were only beginning to crawl out of their caves, but they were the most advanced in all the universe. They were ready to start a new phase of life. All they needed was a push.

That push came in the form of the blue box.

In landed, before them, like a ghost, appearing from nowhere.

And out of the box stepped a man.

He was a strange man. He spoke oddly, for these people, who had barely developed a language of their own. He dressed oddly, considering these people only wore the barest of animal skins for modesty and protection. And he _was_ odd.

He wore a purple jacket and black pants and a bow tie, had floppy, shiny hair. He spun around a lot and talked very fast. He was very _alien_ to these people. His companion was just as odd, the one he called impossible. A girl, with shiny brown hair and short skirts made out of flowing fabric. She watched in wide-eyed wonder at the things around her.

He spoke as though a different language. He spoke of engines and ships and stars and planets and history and time, none of which these people had any words for. He spoke to his companion. She, too, came from the blue box.

It was odd, for these strangers could not both have fit inside it. The man explained, he said it was bigger on the inside. He called it a TARDIS, though on the outside it said Police Box.

The man piqued these people's curiosity, as he showed them to his companion. She was excited, and watched in wonder at all of the things he showed her.

And the people learned. The people were curious. And so he taught them, and they listened.

But this all cost him dearly, for a question was asked. The first question in the universe. The one that must never be answered. And there was danger, and he saved them. Not only from their ignorance, but from a threat they no longer remember.

And he fell. The fall of the Eleventh.

And when they left, the man was remembered.

His lessons were always remembered.

His sacrifice was always remembered.

And, in time, as the people grew, and built great cities, and temples, and houses and learned to dress in shining metals and plate their cities in gold. They learned, they learned of the stars, and recorded every line of history, so they might never forget.

And so, too, did the legend of the blue box develop and evolve. In time, as the stories were passed down, fact became stories, stories became history, history became legend, legend became myth. And the man called the Doctor changed from man to hero to myth to God.

He never returned, but the people never forgot. And his good will turned into an instrument of fear, as his wrath threatened the people, fires fanned by those who sought to control.

Fear turned to rage, and the people forgot their purpose of learning, of seeing the stars, and turned instead to worshiping their God, the Doctor, in fear.

But this was not the end.

The people fought back, and were split. Those who worshipped the Doctor from fear, and those who remembered that he was a kind old man that had not intended for them to live in fear. But still, all believed him to be God.

And there was war.

Cities destroyed, millions dead, and for _what?_ There was no purpose to the fighting, only fighting. Only death, destruction.

And it was in the midst of all of this chaos, in the flames and the fires and the blood, that he returned.

And only a few native people witnessed this, as they watched from the sea of trees as it appeared out of nowhere, as the tales always said. They stopped in their fighting, turning to watch.

"_It has come!"_ they said, crying out in joy. _"The Blue Box! He has come! He is here! The Doctor!"_

-?-

A/N:_ Okay, I hope you all realized that was the Eleventh Doctor and Clara in the first part there. I figure this was basically after the events of "The Name of the Doctor" as well as after whatever happens in the 50__th__, but before Matt Smith regenerates. I'm stepping into dangerous territory here, because I don't know what's going to happen and I run the risk of it all being completely irrelevant after the 50__th__ and Christmas special. _

_But my theory is that the "Fall of the Eleventh" hasn't really happened yet, and the Doctor and Clara will have to go back to Trenzalore (during the events of the Christmas Special) a battle will take place (hopefully with the Silence, I want the Christmas special to be called "Silent Night" so badly), the question will be asked, and the Eleventh will fall. Not at the beginning of the universe, no, that only makes sense in my story. well, I assume that the Doctor was there at the beginning and the first question to ever be asked was "Doctor Who?" in response to the Doctor introducing himself as the Doctor like he normally does. Anyway, The question will be asked, the battle will take place, the Silence will fall, and Matt Smith with regenerate. Also, somehow, this is the end of his life, (spent them all up, last two on John Hurt Doctor and the Meta Crisis) and he's given limitless regenerations, hence why when Clara jumped into his time stream she only saw from Gallifrey to Trenzalore and no other Doctors but 1-11. His life somehow starts anew._

_Anyway, just my theory, completely irr-elephant._

_Oh, and a cookie for all of you who caught my Pond reference. *Boromir meme* One does not simply say "Pond" without thinking of "The Ponds."_

_(That awkward moment when you can't stop thinking in memes)_

_Well, moving right along…_

_I should tell you all, my computer has gone wonky (I broke the screen, it's heartbreaking. I can only use the TV as a monitor now), and therefore there will still be a bit of a delay in posting Part II. _

_How much of a delay, you ask? _

_Er, still, I hate to pull a Moffat, but, ah, "soon."_

_As in, "Still a few weeks" _

_(I know I said that a few weeks ago but hopefully I mean it this time)_

_Please leave a review!_

_~gfg_


	19. Something Awesome

A/N: _Okay, here's the scoop…._

_I've got six chapters written. Just six. I have more planned, but for now just six. And the super-big-awesome-scary problem is that I don't have time to write. I went away to college sooner than I had planned and so big-scary-life stuff is getting in the way. I've moved out of my parents house, and I am at college, learning big, fancy, edumacation stuff, so I really, honestly have no time to write at all. _

_But I'm really impatient to post what I've got, and have this done already (which in no way is going to happen…this might have taken a few months if it was all I did, now it's probably pushed to a couple of years)._

_So, basically, what's going to happen, is that I'm going to post these six chapters once a week, every…what is today, Tuesday? Provided I find the time. If I do not…well, let's hope I do sometime that week._

_The problem is that Architecture is a very, very, VERY demanding major, and I just know that in a few week's time things are going to get super hectic. Right now, things are kinda slow and lose because it's only the first week of classes, but shit's gonna hit the fan real soon and I might not have time to write. _

_You should know that there's no way in hell I'm going to give up writing this story, because I've plotted it all out and BY GOD, Ima gunna FINISH it! : D _

_Anyway, thanks so much for understanding, for sticking with this story, for reading and reviewing and sticking with it despite all it's flaws and my unkempt promises and odd update hours and all. THANK YOU! Without you, this story would still be stuck on…well, maybe chapter 5. Well, I probably would have written it anyway, cause it was in my head…but you made sure I wrote it down! YOU made sure to keep me going with your awesome reviews and the ever-climbing read count, so THANK YOU!_

_Signing off, see you next week,_

_~gfg_

**-REMEMBER ME-**

**PART II**

CHAPTER ONE

_Something Awesome_

"So!" you say, circling around the console across from me, your eyes alight as you lean in towards me. "Clara! All of time and space! Anything that ever happened, or ever will! Where do you wanna go? What do you want to see?"

I hesitate, biting my lip in excitement. Any place that I might want to see is completely wiped from my head.

Typical.

"Stars, planets? The future, the past? What do _you_ want to see, Clara?"

You grin toothily at me across the console, eyes alight with excitement.

I open my mouth, my mind completely blank. I make an apologetic face.

"Mistress!" interjects K-9. "A suggestion! I would recommend something incredible!"

I point at K-9, jumping on his suggestion.

"Something incredible!" I say, turning away from the console. Then it strikes me, and I turn back around, jumping excitedly in front of you. "Something _awesome!"_

You clap and grin, pointing at me, like a chef whose customer has ordered his favorite meal to cook.

"Something _awesome! _Coming right up!" you dash around the console and I follow right beside you. You plug in the coordinates. "Wait!" you say, straightening. I can almost see the light bulb appearing over your head. You contemplate me, thinking. I straighten. "Yes, yes. I've got it. I know _exactly_ what I'm going to take you to see, Clara. Something awesome. Yes. I've got it!"

And you pull the take-off lever.

_Shwoosh._

_Shwoosh_

_Shwoosh._

_THUD!_

You grin at me, gesturing theatrically towards the doors. I bite my lip through my smile.

"Where are we?" I ask, tempering my excitement.

You smile even wider, and open the doors with the flick of a switch. You run towards them, grabbing my hand on the way there and pulling me with you, ready to show me a whole new world. K-9 trails at our heels, faithfully following the both of us.

Without warning, you slide behind me and cover my eyes with your hands. I gasp at the sudden blindness, and the overwhelming sensation of having _you_ pressed up so close behind me.

I let you guide me to the doors, until the very tips of my toes are dangling off the edge.

"Careful," you say, gripping me tightly. I'm not worried at all. In your arms, I feel perfectly safe. I know you'd never let me fall. Never. Never ever.

_I'm falling…I don't think I'll ever stop…it's like I'm breaking into a million pieces…_

I blink behind your hands, eyelashes fluttering against your palms.

"Where are we?" I ask again. You don't answer.

"Are you ready?" you ask. I nod, excited, afraid, nervous. It was all extremely wonderful.

"Yes. No. Wait. Yes," I say. "Yes, I'm ready."

Your hands slide from my eyes and come to rest on my shoulders. I take a deep breath, and open my eyes.

And there's nothing.

I frown.

"Hold up, are you having me on? Where's the awesome? There's nothing out there!"

"Now, now, Clara, don't judge a book by it's cover."

"Doctor!" I complain. You squeeze my shoulders, silencing me.

"Wait until you understand what you're looking at. You're right, there's nothing out there. But I don't think you quite understand. There's _nothing at all _out there. _Nothing._ No people, or dogs or calendars or lamps or trees. There's _nothing._ No space, no planets, no stars…no, not even time."

"Do you mean to say…?" I ask, hardly daring to breathe as the realization dawns on me.

"Yes, Clara. Yes."

You take a deep, dramatic breath.

"Welcome to the beginning of the universe."

I grin widely in amazement, and look up at you. You grin right back, your eyes alight with that same excitement I feel. I turn back to observe, and you shuffle behind me, bringing you right up close. I lean back slightly into you, and you don't seem to mind.

"I've been saving seeing this," you say softly. "For someo—"

You stop mid-sentence, realizing what you're saying. I stiffen slightly at the implication of that, my breath catching. I hardly dare look up at you. I hardly dare breath, like a bird has just landed in my palm and the slightest movement will make it fly off again.

"Master! Time!" chimes K-9, breaking the moment, and you start about a mile.

"Yes! Right! Good dog!" you check your watch. "In, about…ah…sixty…eighty seconds, there's about to be an explosion. A massive, super explosion that will be so big and so _massive_ that, well….the atomic bomb has nothing on this baby. It won't be able to be contained. With no gravity, and no friction, it will spread, firing off in every direction at once. Billions upon billions of stars and planets will be created, like clockwork, and we'll get to watch, as all this springs into existence. _The entire universe._ And all this will happen in _less than a second._ And then time will come into play, and everything will appear to slow down, though it's really speeding up, going out faster and faster. Here's the spark, Clara. It doesn't get more awesome than this."

You let it sink in for a moment, watching me grin in amazement. Traveling with you really is everything I ever thought it could be. And then a thought occurs.

"But how can we be here?"

You grin at this question, beaming with pride.

"Excellent question. I've stabilized the time field. We're in an alternate…well…a sort of bubble in the space time continuum. Protected by an artificial gravity well in a universal constant. The TARDIS provides us with everything we need, protecting us from the…ah…nothingness. Allows us to see all."

I'm able to keep up, barely. Even with my doctorate at the Academy, the dizzying physics involved in such an act is enough to make my head spin.

"That's quite some complex equations, for someone who can barely land the TARDIS correctly."

You huff. I giggle, nudging you. Someone's got to deflate your ego. Begrudgingly, you smile at me.

"Master! The time has come!"

"Yes! You're absolutely right, K-9!" you look down at the metal dog in confusion. "Time for what?"

"The beginning of the universe, Doctor!" I tell you impatiently.

"Oh! Yes! Right!" you say. Then you point, your hand coming to rest on my waist. "Look, here it comes. The spark."

We watch, in amazement, as a pulsating light sparks into existence. And then, incredibly, amazingly, that pulsating light becomes brighter, and brighter, and brighter, until it burns to look at it, seemingly until it can't get any brighter, and then it gets even _brighter._

And then, suddenly, it flickers out, and then, _BANG!_ Suddenly it's all there, zooming out, springing into existence, expanding and expanding. The TARDIS begins to rattle, the floor shaking, and you pull me close, keeping me from falling out of the doors.

And yet there's more, as it expands, the brightness fades, and then, there! And there! Popping up everywhere in the swirls of dust created by the shock, bright, burning, shining stars. Sparkling with brilliance, better and more brilliant than any diamond.

You've given me the stars, and a tear falls down my cheek and catches in my grin.

It's the most amazing thing I've ever seen.

It's fantastic.

It's brilliant.

It's amazing.

It's _awesome. _

"Here's your awesome, Clara," you say with a grin. "It doesn't get more awesome than this."

_Run you clever boy, and remember me. _


	20. A Brave New World

**-REMEMBER ME-**

**PART II**

CHAPTER TWO

_A Brave New World_

"Right, then!" you say as soon as we've both seen our fill. You close the doors with a snap. The TARDIS is rumbling beneath our feet. I rush to join you at the console, legs wobbly as the floor starts to shake.

"Yes, it's just as I thought, it's not stable. Well, knew it wouldn't last long. Not with the big bang. Hang in there, old girl," you say, taking a moment from your dashing about the console to stroke the time rotor.

"What's happening?" I ask, clinging onto the console, as the TARDIS starts to shake in earnest.

"Well, she doesn't quite like being this close to the big bang!" you say, flipping switches and dashing about the console. "It's not stable, and she knows it! She's trying to pull us out, but I've got to stabilize it! Hold that switch there!"

"A TARDIS isn't supposed to be this stressed!" I yell as the lights flicker.

"Yes, I know that, Clara! Thank you! That's very helpful!"

I glare at you across the console, helping you to stabilize her by pushing buttons and flipping switches.

"Holding lateral stabilizers, Master!" K-9 chimes in from beneath the console.

"Good dog, K-9! I've got to get us home! Come on, old thing, you can do it!"

There's a loud groan of protest from the TARDIS, and the floor tilts sideways. I yelp as the part of the console I'm holding onto for support lets off a shower of sparks. I withdraw my hand, making me fall to the floor with a loud thump. And then, everything stops and the TARDIS goes steady.

"Ouch," I complain.

You push a few more buttons, and then kneel down to me, helping me up.

"Alright, there, Clara?" you ask.

"Yup, perfectly fine," I say, rubbing my burnt hand and glaring at the TARDIS console. I've a sneaking suspicion she did that on purpose. "Have we landed?"

You push a few buttons and the scanner comes up.

"Yes," you say. "I think I know where, too."

"Well, where are we?" I ask. You don't answer, instead crawling beneath the console to attempt repairs.

"Pass me my sonic screwdriver, would you, Clara?" you say, holding out a hand.

I glare at your boot-cladded feet for a moment before going over to the hat stand where your coat and your scarf rests, and dig in your endless pockets for your sonic screwdriver.

"You've sure got a lot of stuff in here," I call to him as I come up with a blonde Barbie doll. I give it a quirk of the eyebrow. "Why do you have a Barbie doll?"

"Oh, never mind that, just get my screwdriver, will you?"

I roll my eyes and dig deeper in your pockets, finally coming up with the sonic.

"It's red," I say, handing it to you.

"What?" you ask, your voice muffled.

"I said it's red," I repeat.

"What's red?"

"Your screwdriver!"

You push yourself out from under to give me an odd look.

"Of course it's red! Why wouldn't it be red?"

I shrug. You slide back under the console.

"No reason. I just expected it to be green," I answer to your pocket-watch.

"What?" you say. I huff.

"Green!" I repeat. "I expected it to be _green!"_

You come out from under the console again, and give me a look like I've just dribbled on my shirt.

"Why would it be green?"

"Well, I dunno," I say. You give me an odd look and go back under the console.

"Hand me that wrench, there, Clara," you say, pointing about three feet to the left of a tool bucket. I roll my eyes and retrieve the wrench.

"Are we ever going to talk about it?" I suddenly blurt out.

"Ouch!" you exclaim, after a thunk and the tinkling of the wrench hitting the ground. I peer under the console, one eyebrow raised in amused concern.

"Are you alight?"

"…Yes, yes…I'm fine…" you mutter. There's a moment of silence except for some metallic squeaking.

"Talk about what?" you ask. I can't tell if that's a hopeful note in your voice or a _mention it and I'm running away_ sort of tone. You fidget underneath the console. "Clara, come hold this still."

I crawl under the console to join you. I can't help but catch my breath. It's like a different world down here. It's very close quarters. I have to squeeze in right next to you to hold the wires still. You seem almost _distracted_ as your eyes land on me. You hold the screwdriver in one hand and the wrench in the other, seemingly forgetting what you were doing with them.

"Wasn't there something you had to fix?" I remind you. You start, and hastily start readjusting wires.

"Well?" you say after a moment. I look up at you, not an easy feat considering our precarious position, with your arms raised upward and a leg stuck out in front of me at an awkward angle, with me pressed up against your side, one arm up holding the wire, tilting awkwardly on a hipbone. "Talk about what?"

I blink. You look at me, and there's something in your eyes.

"Oh," I say, a bit concerned for our close proximity, and almost but not quite forgetting what I was going to say. Suddenly, I'm not sure I want to say it. "Well…"

"Clara, I'm 726 years old, whatever you have to say, I've heard it before."

I cough awkwardly.

"Are we ever going to talk about the fact that we kissed?"

You drop the wrench again.

"Spoke too soon," you mutter. "Haven't heard that one before."

I say nothing, and you look at me awkwardly, a bit of a blush working it's way up your neck. Which, of course, in turn makes _me_ blush.

"Well…I just…I was, ah…er…um…shall we finish up here?"

My eyes widen.

"I didn't mean-!"

"I know," I gulp.

"I just meant that-!"

"I know!"

"Right, well then…"

With a final buzz of the screwdriver, you scramble out from under the console. I sigh and call myself an idiot before following you.

"Shall we see where we are?" you ask, your cheeks still a bit pink.

You studiously avoid me as you push some buttons and the scanner flickers to life.

"Ah!" you say excitedly. "I've never been here before!"

"Where are we?"

You grin at me, and it's like our awkward conversation never happened.

"The first planet!"

"The what?" I ask.

"The first planet!" you say, manic gleam to your eyes. "The very, very first. What d'you think, Clara? Would you like to see it?"

I eye you suspiciously.

"Is it safe?" I ask cautiously.

"Safe?" you say, face falling. "_Safe?_" you repeat, seeming slightly offended. "Of course it's—why would you ask such a silly question? Like I'd ever take you somewhere that wasn't _safe_."

I stare at you disbelievingly, with a slight quirk to my lips. You stuff it, looking slightly concerned. "Don't take me on my word on that."

I raise an eyebrow, but I can't help but smile. You dismiss my worries with a wave of your hand. "Of course it's safe."

"You sure?"

"Well…"

"That's what I thought," I say smugly.

"Of ye of little faith!" you say dramatically, as if wounded. I giggle a bit, partially to relieve my worries, and partially to show you I'm not afraid. Which I'm not. Course I'm not afraid. Why would I be afraid?

You grin right back, and open the doors with a flick of a switch. You go up to the hat stand and put your coat and scarf on, before gesturing me out the doors with a wave of your floppy hat and a slight bow.

"Brave new world, Clara. Take a look."

_Run you clever boy, and remember._

A/n: _Please leave a review! DOO EEET. Reviews keep this story going, if it weren't for reviews, I would probably just...like...die. _

_SO LEAVE AN EFFING REVIEW! ;D _

_love you guys :) _


	21. The Stars in Your Eyes

**-REMEMBER ME-**

**PART II**

CHAPTER THREE

_The Stars in Your Eyes_

A thrill of fearful excitement shoots through me. I share a look with you, and in your steady gaze I'm reassured. So I step out of the TARDIS doors to the very first planet.

At first, I think it's daylight out, because it's incredibly bright. But as my eyes adjust, I realize it's actually night, but the sky is lit up with a hundred million billion stars, so close together and burning so brightly. I look up, stepping out in wonder, as my eyes roam the brand-new night sky.

"Oh, _wow,_" I breathe. It quite literally takes my breath away. I cover my open mouth and twirl haltingly, neck craned. I'm unable to stay in one place as there's so much to _look_ at. "_Wow."_

I hear you chuckle, and I look down sharply to see you watching me with a twinkle in your eyes as bright as any set of stars.

"_Wow_ indeed," you mutter, eyes on me. And I feel another thrill of fearful excitement.

I'm not sure why this time, perhaps it's that I'm on an adventure with you, like I've dreamed of since I was a little kid. Or perhaps it's that you've just taken me to see _the birth of the universe. _Or, perhaps, it's the way you're looking at me, with that bright, shining look in your eyes that reminds me of the sunlight on the leaves of the trees on Gallifrey.

I clear my throat, and stop spinning.

"It's got an atmosphere and everything?" I ask.

You chuckle again.

"Yes," you answer, happy to play the teacher. "But it's not populated, not yet. These are it's early days, life just beginning. Not just here, but all across the stars. Planets coming together and just newly forming. Proteins coming together to form amino acids, life just beginning to crawl out of the sludge and make its way to the next stage of evolution."

You come to stand in front of me, K-9 trailing behind you, and you link your hand in mine, gesturing widely all around at the flora, pulling me in a small circle.

"But here, _here, _oh, _here,_ Clara, _here's_ where it all began! Right now, the trees are formed, the amino acids have turned into fish, those fish are sprouting legs…in another million years, those primordial creatures will become the very first humanoids."

You grin at me, almost _dancing _me in a circle, and I share your smile and your excitement and your wonder. And I can't help but wonder if it's because of _my_ wonderment that you've found your own.

"And it doesn't stop there, oh no! They'll crawl out of their caves, and they'll build cities, temples, and they'll _learn._ They'll become curious! As curious as humans and as tenacious as Time Lords! They'll learn all about the world around them! And they'll build cars and rockets and spaceships and they'll _travel the stars!_ Imagine!"

You twirl me around, and I laugh as I end up in your arms. You chuckle.

"Just imagine, Clara," you say, eyes locking with mine. I suddenly realize how very _close _your face is to mine. My hearts pick up, racing ahead of my brain. And I can't _think_ straight in your arms, with you looking at me like that, underneath a sky full of brand-new stars on a brand-new planet. And suddenly I'm afraid. I swallow.

_Don't fall in love._

"What's it called?" I ask, in an attempt to stop my hearts racing so.

"Trenzalore."

_Trenzalore…_

I gasp, and my grip on your arms suddenly becomes vice-like. My head floods with memories, memories that are not my own, voices…so many voices…some of them my own, some of them not, all screaming out one word:

"_Trenzalore!"_

"_He can't go there, you know he can't!"_

"_Trenzalore…"_

"_This man who lies must lie once more when this man lies at Trenzalore."  
_

"_Trenzalore is where I'm buried."_

"_TRENZALORE."_

"_His friends are lost forevermore, unless he goes to Trenzalore."_

"_And you're sure, he said? It was definitely Trenzalore?"_

"_The Doctor has a secret, you know. One he will take to the grave."_

"_Trenzalore!"_

"_He can't go there, you know he can't!"_

"_Not exactly the Time War, but too much for the old man. Enough to finish him."_

"_You didn't listen, did you? That's the problem, you lot never do!"_

"_One word. One I've heard in connection with the Doctor before. Trenzalore."_

"_He wasn't talking about my secret. He was talking about my….grave."_

"_What is your name?"_

"_That is the scar tissue of my journey through the universe. From Gallifrey, to Trenzalore."_

"_Doctor WHO?"_

"_Trenzalore is where I'm buried."_

"_DOCTOR WHO?"_

"_He can't go there, you know he can't!"_

I gasp for air, coming out of it. I find myself on the ground, surrounded by you, as I grip tightly to your arm, the other hand gripping my head so tightly it hurts. The leafy ground spins in front of me with a whirl of colored scarf and I realize I'm not standing. I'm very, very dizzy.

"_The man who lies must lie once more, when this man dies at Trenzalore…"_

"Clara? _Clara!_ Are you alright?" I hear your voice. Your real voice. That deep one. Yes. That's the one that's real. That high, impatient one I associated with you…that's not real. It can't be.

"Yes…yes…'m fine…" I answer back, attempting not to get sick on your scarf.

You hold me upright, cradled in your arms. I meet your eyes. They're filled with concern. Immediately I feel guilty.

"_Trenzalore…"_

Already, the memories are slipping from me, like a dream, like trying to hold water in my hands. I grasp at the memories, desperately trying to keep hold. There's something important in there I must not forget.

"_He can't go there, you know he can't!"_

"Are you quite sure you're alright? Clara?"

"We should go…" I manage to say. "Trenzalore…you can't go to Trenzalore…"

Out of all my jumble of a confused mind and memories, there's only one thing I know for certain.

_The Doctor cannot go to Trenzalore._

"What?" you say, startled. "What do you mean? Who told you that? What's wrong?"

"…Not right," I say, the last of the memories slipping away. It was a bow tie. I'm sure of it. I'm positive it was a bow tie. Glimmering eyes. Floppy hair. Big chin. No. It's gone, too. All of the memories gone until all I see is your face. Toothy smile. Curly hair. Scarf. Jelly Babies.

Yes. Right. Jelly Babies.

_He always looks different, but I always know it's him. _

I attempt to stand, shaking off the memories, but stumble. You catch me. "You shouldn't be here. It's not right. We should go."

"Clara, what are you talking about?" you say, holding me up. This time, our proximity has no effect on me, overwhelmed as I am swith sheer bloody panic. "I assure you, it's perfectly safe. I _promise, _Clara. You have my word, nothing bad will happen to you."

"It's not me I'm worried about," I mumble.

"What?"

"It's not me I'm worried about!" I say. You open your mouth to retort but I cut you off. "Please! We should _go,_ Doctor!"

The memories are fading, fading so fast, and I forget your face, the warnings of Trenzalore, until only a feeling of panic remains. "We should go. We should really, really…go. Please, Doctor. Please!"

And then I hear a scream.

* * *

**A/N: **_And the plot thickens! Well, the mini-plot thickens...because...well, it's an adventure! It's a series! Stuff! Reasons! And I suppose the big plot thickens as well, because Clara just can't stop remembering, can she? And then she forgets it all..._

_*evil smile*_

_Teasers._

_Spoilers, sweetie._

_NO! Nononono...NO! Don't take that the wrong way! River Song will NOT be making an appearance! ._

_K...I'm posting this, and I'm going back to bed, and then I'm going to class, and when I get back from class at 3:00, I expect to have 25 new reviews. Got that, people? TWENTY FIVE. That is my number. Well, actually...thirteen is my number...but I want TWENTY FIVE new reviews, because that would make my week until next Wednesday. **TWENTY - FIVE!**_

_God, I'm getting pushy. _

_*Shut up and take my reviews*_

_Hm-hm. Done now._

_Please leave a review! :)_

_~gfg_


	22. The Doctor Is In

**-REMEMBER ME-**

**PART II**

CHAPTER FOUR

_The Doctor Is In_

You look upward, into the dark line of trees lit by the stars, where the sound of the scream came. And then you look back down at me, clearly worried and confused. But there's a part of you inside that can never resist a scream, a cry for help, and no amount of pleading on my part will tear you away.

"Doctor…" I warn faintly. You look down at me, weighing your options.

"Can you walk?" you ask.

Without thinking, I nod.

A look of grim determination fills your face. Oops.

"K-9, stay," you say firmly to the tin dog.

"But master—!"

"No, K-9, you stay in the TARDIS."

K-9 hangs his head, looking depressed. Feeling bad for the poor thing, I pat him on the head. He cheers considerably, perking up and wagging his tail.

"Yes master!" he says, turning around and heading into the TARDIS. I look back up at you, and I can see it in your eyes.

I know, now, there's no stopping you. And if I feign illness then you'll just send me back to the TARDIS, and that is not going to happen. I'm not leaving your side.

Not here.

Not ever.

So I attempt to recover as quickly as possible.

"No one here yet, eh, Doctor?" I say weakly, in an attempt to recover my cheekiness.

You sigh.

"Then again…" you mutter, mouth turning downward in a pout.

"Help! Help! Somebody help me!"

You let go of me, forcing me to stand on my own, and your hand travels down my arm to lock hands with me. You share a quick grin with me, and I grin back as happily as I can.

And we run after the sound of the voice.

Into the jungle of primitive, leafy plants we go, chasing after the sound of the cries. I'm whipped by leaves and ferns and sticks as we go racing through the woods, my boots coming up muddy as they squelch in the water. The only thing guiding me is your hand, leading me tightly on. I trust you to keep track of the way back to the TARDIS, because I sure as hell can't remember.

We come across a clearing. The mud here is strangely thicker and darker. There's a single man there, crumpled at the base of a tree.

"Help," he cries weakly, catching sight of us.

You rush forward, and, quick as a flash, kneel down next to him and examine him. I dawdle back, staring in horror at his injuries, which look gruesome to my untrained eye. I avert my gaze, but you jump right in, not bothered at all.

"It's not as bad as it looks," you say reassuringly as you begin to tend to his injuries. "There's a lot of bleeding, but if we hurry we can stop that. It's mostly just minor injuries…scrapes and cuts…you'll be absolutely sorted…but I'm worried about your ankle, here…it seems you've dislocated it…"

"Who…are…_you?"_ gasps the injured man between labored breaths. I stare at him with wide eyes.

"I'm the Doctor."

The man's eyes go wide and he gasps, making a funny spasm bending forward. You shove him back down again, against the tree.

"_The_ Doctor?"

"That's right, now hold still. Clara!" you call. I jump, and take a hesitant step forward. You ignore me. "How did you manage to sustain this many injuries from falling out of a tree? You must stay awake, you've damaged your head somehow…Clara!"

This time I come all the way, kneeling beside him, my knees going into the strangely hot and sticky ground. You exchange a look with me, and I'm fueled with a desire to rise to the challenge and make you proud. I do my best to fight against the urge to run away.

"Keep him focused. Keep him awake," you say, and I nod shakily. "Hold him down."

I do as I'm asked, trying to steer clear of any blood, and I talk to him as you stop the bleeding.

"Hey there," I say softly, my voice trembling. "What's your name?"

"J—Jexlan," he answers, spasming.

"I'm Clara," I say nervously, trying to be reassuring. "What happened?"

"I was on watch…fell out of the tree…I…I think I was…"

Suddenly he grabs me, pulling me close, watching me with wild, desperate eyes. My heart pounds with fear, because he looks _terrified._

"There is something…something out there…They're here…they are…they saw me!"

"Shh, shh," I whisper soothingly, unsure of what else to say, because now I'm frightened. Well and truly _frightened._ "It's alright. You're safe now."

"Alright, Jexlan, was it?" you say, face set. And I'm struck by how odd it is to actually see you _Doctoring._ "Jexlan, I warn you, this is going to hurt. But it will feel much better after, I promise, alright?"

He nods. You look at me.

"Hold him still."

"On three," you say. "One…two…"

Suddenly you yank on something, hard, and there's a sickening crack.

Jexlan screams, and it's the most awful sound. I want to cover my ears, but he'd jerked so violently that it's all I can do to keep him still. His eyes roll into the back of his head, and I remember what I'm charged with as he quiets.

"Jexlan!" I shout. "_Jexlan!_ Wake up! You have to wake up!" I call to him. But I can sense it, him slipping into the unknown. "Jexlan!"

You suddenly appear right next to me, and you start slapping Jexlan lightly.

"What are you doing?" I ask in horror.

"Keeping him awake," you answer shortly. "Jexlan! Jexlan, come on! _Wake up!"_

You slap him a bit harder this time, and he gasps, eyes flying wide.

"The Doctor…the Doctor is here…must tell others…" he mutters wildly.

I look up at you sharply. Your eyebrows come together and your lips part, revealing your bottom teeth. I don't understand.

Neither, it seems, do you.

"Jexlan," you say sharply. _"Jexlan!"_

He vaguely glances at you. You frown. Then you pull out a white bag and hold it under his nose.

"Would you like a Jelly Baby?" you ask.

The scent of the candy seems to bring him round, and he focuses more.

"What?" he says.

"A Jelly Baby. Go on, have one. I implore you, they're quite delicious."

Slowly, Jexlan takes a Jelly Baby. He holds it out in front of his face like he doesn't know what to do with it. You yourself pick out an orange Jelly Baby and munch on it happily before offering the bag to me. Rolling my eyes, but grinning, I take one.

"Thanks, Doctor," I say. You wave me off, sticking the bag back in your pocket.

Seeing us eat them, Jexlan eats his Jelly Baby.

"Now, that's better, eh?" you say, grinning at Jexlan reassuringly. "Now, can you tell us what happened?"

"I was…" Jexlan puts a hand to his head. "…I was attacked, I think. Yes."

"Why were you out here all alone?" I ask.

"Scout…I was…on watch…"

"Ah," you say, apparently everything becoming clearer to you.

"What's going on?" I ask.

"Well…I think you might be right, Clara. I think we had best leave Trenzalore."

Now having had my curiosity piqued, I blink in surprise.

"What?"

"I think it best we leave."

"What for?"

"You…cannot leave!" cries Jexlan. "Your coming was foretold!"

"I don't believe in prophecy. A load of rubbish," you say, sniffing haughtily.

"We can't just … _leave_ him here, Doctor," I protest. "He's injured, he needs our help!"

"You cannot leave!" cries Jexlan. "Your coming was foretold, you will bring peace! It was said...You are our salvation, Doctor!"

"Now, listen, I'm nobody's—" you hop up, suddenly angry. "You're talking nonsense, the both of you. I'm nobody's salvation and there's no such thing as telling the future! And you, Clara! One minute you want to leave and now you don't! What is the _matter_ with you?"

"I'm not for staying, Doctor," I say tersely. "I just don't think we should leave Jexlan out here in the woods on his own! We've got to help him!"

You purse your lips, but I can see in your eyes, you're already conceding.

"Please, Doctor."

"Oh, alright," you mutter. "Do you have a base nearby? Friends? A city?"

"The ruined city is not far. That is where we have made base."

"'The ruined city,'" you repeat, smiling reluctantly. "Well, I always did love some ruins."

You move to help Jexlan up, and I quickly help you, as we both pull him up, throwing each an arm over our shoulders.

"Did you know I helped in the construction of Stonehenge?" you say to me offhandedly.

"Really?"

"Yes, was there when it was designed… a fascinating people…very advanced… might have helped the engineer out just a _teensy_ bit…they couldn't quite figure out how to get the rocks on top in place, you see…"

_Run you clever boy, and remember me. _

**A/N: **_So, what'dya guys think of that one, eh? I'm not doing so bad on the plot development front…I am attempting to form a coherent plot. My confidence is getting there, at least. I've got about a third of this little mini-lot written, hopefully I can keep going so you guys don't have to wait for more chapters __. I've got to about chapter 7 or 8 I think, so I'm a few ahead, but not as far ahead as I feel comfortable with._

_Anyway, I got a bit snippy last time about reviews, and that worked, but I feel guilty about it. So, this time I'll ask nicely, and perhaps out of the goodness of your hearts you'll kindly leave a review...so I don't have to guilt-trip you again ;)_

_Please, oh please, pretty please with sugar on top, dear reader, leave a review?_

_Thanks, _

_Gfg_

_PS: Updates are every Wednesday! (Next Wednesday, last Wednesday…one of the Wednesdays…)_

_(Kudos to the hardcore Whoufflers out there that caught that quote ;D) Anyway…Because Whouffle._

_PPS: OMG DID YOU SEE THE POSTER FOR THE FIFTITH IT IS SO EFFING AWESOME AND JUST AMAZING AND I CAN'T EVEN I JUST CANNOT __**EVEN**__ IT IS SO EFFING AMAZING AND I JUST WANT TO DIE BECAUSE MY MIND IS SO BLOWN AND IT IS SO DOCTORISH. TIME WAR. DALEK-Y AWESOMENESS. BAD WOLF. TARDIS DOOR. RED SONIC SCREWDRIVER. MATT SMITH. DAVID TENNANT. JOHN HURT. __**"THE DAY OF THE DOCTOR." **__I CAN'T EVEN. MIND IS BLOWN. *gasps for breath*_

_**PPPS: **__**LEAVE A REVIEW PLEASE!**_


	23. All in the Name of the Doctor

** -REMEMBER ME-**

**PART II**

CHAPTER FIVE

_All in the Name of the Doctor_

The terrain through the jungle is rough, and supporting Jexlan soon becomes very tiring. You don't stop, though, so there's no way I will. You even have the strength to _chatter on_…while I have to save my breath. You always seem to have boundless amounts of energy.

It's incredibly tiring.

Soon, though, the floor of the primitive jungle starts to even out, and supporting Jexlan becomes easier.

"How much farther?" I ask Jexlan.

"Not far now…not far…"

"Tell us about your people, Jexlan," you ask.

Jexlan eyes you warily.

"Don't you know?"

"We're really not local," I explain. "We're…travelers."

"It is true," he says, breathless. "It is said that the Old One was a traveler."

"What's the _'Old One?'_" I ask.

Jexlan does not answer, instead he stares at you with wide eyes.

You studiously ignore him.

"How much further is it, did you say?" you ask.

"Not long now, it will not be long before we are inside the protection of the city…"

"Protection?" I ask. "Why would we need-?"

"Stop! In the name of the almighty Trexlore! You are under arrest!"

I gasp, and the three of us stop dead in our tracks.

They came from nowhere, popping out of the tree, surrounding us completely. Dressed like some ancient Aztecan out of time, with odd feathers in their hair and draped in decorative metal as armor.

Every single one of them armed with a bow and arrow. Some of them even have oddly advanced guns.

I put my hands up.

"Ah! Hello!" you say cheerfully, as though greeting guests at a tea party. "I'm the Doctor, and this is Clara, and this man here is Jexlan! He's severely wounded, and, as you can see, is clearly not a threat to you. Neither are we."

There's a muttering among the warriors, quiet whispers, but I pick up a word here and there.

"_Did you hear what he said?"_

"_Did you hear what he called himself?"_

"_The Doctor! He called himself the Doctor!"_

"_Not…not __**the **__Doctor, surely?"_

From the way your jaw tightens, I guess you've heard them too.

"The Doctor, you say?" says what appears to be the leader. He's got a faint smirk on his face. "Well, we'll see about that. You do know impersonating the Doctor is a level one heresy?"

"A what?" you say, bemused.

"It is an act of offense!"

"Yes, I know what a heresy—oh, look, nevermind, you see, this man is injured—"

"It's him! That's the one we've been looking for!" shouts one of the guards.

"Oh, no!" screams Jexlan suddenly, and he takes off like a sprinter, dashing out from between us and nearly knocking me off my feet.

"Jexlan!" you and I both call to his retreating form, as he runs as fast as his mangled injuries will allow him.

"Dammit," you mutter, and take off after him. I follow after you, and we chase through the underbrush.

"Stop! Stop! After them! Quickly! They are fugitives and must be punished!"

The warriors then chase after us, and we're caught in the middle of it all. I stay hot on your heels as we run through the underbrush.

"Jexlan!" you call.

And then, quite suddenly, I am grabbed from behind. I let out a scream and you turn, and I catch a glimpse of your eyes wide with fear .

"_Clara!"_ you cry, and stop running. Then they grab you, and we're both captured.

"Well, maybe you were right, Clara," you mutter irritably. "We should have left when we had the chance."

"Get him!" yells the warrior's leader.

Half of the group runs after Jexlan. Then, the leader approaches us both menacingly. With a twitch of his finger, the warriors that have grabbed us force us to our knees.

"Well, well, that wasn't very smart, now, was it? You'll soon see what happens to traitors who run."

"I assure you, we are not traitors," you say diplomatically.

"We're not even from this planet!" I cry.

You nudge me sharply.

"_Ouch,"_ I grumble. You give me a look that says quite plainly _shut up._

"Well, well, now we know you're both nutters. Not even from this planet, eh? Now you're just talking nonsense. Now we know, don't we boys?" he calls to the group. They chuckle. He leans down in front of you, face close and menacing. You wince, turning your nose away. "The Doctor, indeed."

He stands, drawing his weapon, a sword. I stare in wide-eyed panic at it, wondering what he intends to do with it.

"Get 'em," he commands.

I barely have time to comprehend what that means before I feel a great pain as a shoe connects with my head.

"_Clara!" _I hear you scream, as everything goes black.

Musty.

Something smells musty.

And dank.

Yuck.

I groan.

It feels like my skull is cracked open, my head aches so badly. I gasp, raising a hand and touching the side of it gingerly.

I blearily open my eyes.

Well, I can see why it's musty and dank.

The first thing I see is a damp stone floor, and as I raise my eyes higher they come into contact with rusty bars very close together.

I hear a shuffling noise behind me, and I'm up faster than I thought was possibly, every nerve on edge.

I deflate when I see it's just Jexlan.

"Are you alright?" he asks, coming closer.

"Yes…I'm…ouch…yes, I'm fine..." I say cautiously. I look around what appears to be a small cell, occupied by only myself and Jexlan. I see no hint of a multicolored scarf. "Where are we? Where's the Doctor?"

"We're in the Capitol," you say. "Underground, in the jails. This is where they take us. I've never seen it before. I now see why it was said to be so terrible."

Far off I hear a scream echo through the stone walls. I jump about a mile, my hearts racing.

"What was that?"

Jexlan stays silent.

"Where's the Doctor?"

"They took him," he says.

"_Took_ him? Took him _where?_"

"To Trexlore," he says, with a slight shudder.

"Wait…they said that before. I heard him. He told us to stop in the name of Trexlore. Who's Trexlore?"

"He is the leader of the Capitol, and he is our enemy. But do not speak so to the guards! They will kill you for such a heresy!"

"And they've taken the Doctor to him?"

"Yes," says Jexlan.

"Why?" I ask.

"Because he called himself the Doctor," says Jexlan.

I'm confused.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It is a level one heresy, punishable by death, to impersonate our God."

"Your _what?"_ I say, astonished.

"Our God," says Jexlan. "Our God is called Doctor, and to impersonate him is a crime that apparently warrants death. Even our healers must not be called such, for there is only one Doctor, and we await the day he returns."

"The Doctor," I say, trying to work out what this means. "The Doctor is…is your _God?_"

"Yes."

"I don't understand…how can he be your God?"

"It is a long story," says Jexlan. "One that has many tellings. It is told to our children from the moment they enter the cradle. The story of the Doctor, and the Blue Box. The story of how we came to be."

"But you can't possibly mean…_the_ Doctor…_my_ Doctor…it has to be a coincidence."

"I hope not," he says. "For his coming heralds salvation."

"Okay…" I mutter, one eyebrow raising. "This is getting creepy."

"I apologize, miss, I did not mean to frighten you."

"No, it's alright," I say, silent as I think through all Jexlan's said. Panic then grips me. "Hold on! You said…you said impersonating the Doctor is punishable by death!"

"Yes, miss, if he is incapable of providing proof…which, in this day and age, they will pay no attention to. They will execute him without a fair trial. He'd be lucky to get a trial at all, actually."

It hits me, and some part of me, a deeply ingrained, protective trait—one that has been there as long as I remember concerning you—completely panics at that notion. I can't let you be _executed._

Attempting to keep my head, I take a deep breath.

"Alright, we've got to break out of here," I say, determined. I stand, wincing as the blood rushes to the lump in my head. "We've got to save the Doctor."

_Run you clever boy, and remember me._

**A/N: **_REMEMBER TO LEAVE A __**REVIEW**__! __**REVIEWS**__ MAKE ME __**HAPPY**__! : ) _


	24. Trexalore

**-REMEMBER ME-**

**PART II**

CHAPTER SIX

_Trexalore_

"Now, listen, I tell you…this is completely unwarranted. I really do mean you no harm. All this violence might hurt someone, has no one taught you that?"

"Shut it, you!" growls the guard.

He gives me a hard push, shoving me on my way, and forcing me to trip over my scarf. I recover quickly, springing to my feet again and resuming chat with the guard.

"Well, I was just trying to help you out. It's really not good for the health, you know, all this shoving about."

"I'm warnin' you!"

"Now, now, rudeness is not good for the health either. It's seriously damaging to social relationships. I say, would you care for a Jelly Baby?"

I offer him the treat, but he glares at me.

"I ain't fallin' for yer tricks, mister."

I sigh, and eat the sweet treat myself.

"Where _are_ you taking me, anyway?"

"To _him_."

"Ah. _Him._ _He_ sounds very important, to not even have a name."

"You would know, wouldn't cha, eh?" he says, glaring at me and pushing me again. "An' anyway, his name is Trexalore."

"Hm. _Trexalore_. That sounds eerily familiar to the name of the planet."

"What choo on about?"

"Never mind me. I make odd connections sometimes. It's part of my job description."

"Shut it!"

I'm silent for maybe three seconds.

"Is that, by any chance, his title? Like…Ceaser? You know, I've met several Ceasaers. Julius was by far the—"

"What the 'ell is a 'Ceasear?'" says the guard, glaring. "And I though' I told you to _shut it!"_

"Yes, you did say that, several times…though as Clara will tell you, I'm not very fond of listening—"

"_Shut UP!"_ yells the other, up until this point silent guard.

Deciding perhaps I'm pushing my luck, I fall silent, and admire the architecture.

It's overall design is rather primitive, like one might see in the Aztec culture on Earth, with sloping walls and an overall feeling of clusterphobia when inside the structures. But the walls and ceiling glows with an alien energy. Blue in color, it's a power source, running along the walls and incorporated into the décor. Whether or not it's safe to touch remains to be seen.

The gourds march me along, twisting through corridors that all look the same and up steep stairs designed to burn calories. Until finally, we come upon an open space.

It's a very large, open space, but still very much enclosed. Up the walls go like a pyramid, assuring that we all feel very small. At the very top is a single window to let light filter through, and in the center of the room, a platform. On it sits a throne, and on that throne sits a man with red paint on his face with his lips and eyes lined in gold, and a halo of feathers adore his green hair.

These people seem to have an odd obsession with gold. Well, at least the Cybermen are guaranteed never to come here.

The guards force me to my knees in front of the man.

"Ah, hello!" I say, ignoring the obvious etiquette and speaking first anyway with a wide grin. "You must be Trexalore! Very nice to meet you. I love your guards, by the way, they're wonderfully violent and perniciously dull."

Trexalore rises, looking incredibly offended. Just by the way the room seems to shiver I can tell this is a man of great power, and great brutality. As he steps forward he whips behind him a long blood-red cape, and his golden armor shines with hours of slave-labor.

"And you must be the one calling yourself _Doctor,_" he says with disgust.

"Well, that is my name," I say irritably.

He steps down the stairs from the platform to the floor, taking his sweet time about it, as though by wasting time he would command a malevolent presence. Well, it works for the other people in the room, as they seem to cower and pretend not to. It doesn't work on me, as I do tend to get impatient. Tapping my foot, I take deep, dramatic sighs, putting off every air of impatience with his antics, and he glares at me.

Good. I love getting on the bad side of a tyrant.

He takes one last step and is on the ground with the rest of the common folk. And he steps towards me, his red eyes fixed upon me.

"I _am_ Trexalore, but who _you_ are is as of yet a curiosity. You are obviously a man of learning, but you dress like a commoner."

"Thank you," I say smartly. He glares. Or maybe it's just the eyes that are always glaring.

"And you obviously have no idea who _I_ am."

I knew very well, but I'd taken it on a personal vendetta to make him angry. Not a smart move, on my part. But then, I have never liked a bully.

"Should I? You don't seem all that important to me."

His eyes gleam, and he straightens with anger.

"_I_ am the leader of this great, almighty civilization! I am _King!_ And _I_ am the person who holds _your_ life in his hands, so you might want to show a little bit of _respect!"_

"Ah. Respect. Yes. Quite right too. And yet, also, you should respect your elders, and I am by far your elder. By around…oh, say, 700 years or so."

There is the clinking of armor as the guards shift uncomfortably. Unnerved, but much too disciplined to talk amongst themselves.

Trexalore himself looks slightly taken aback.

"It is said that our Lord God was thousands of years old," whispers Trexalore's advisor.

"_Silence!"_ he commands, whipping about. The old advisor cowers. Trexalore turns back to me. "You are a liar, and a traitor, and an imposter. You will be executed for your crimes. Take him away."

The guards grab me around the arms.

"Wait, wait! Don't I even get a trail? A hearing? A last request? At the very least an _explanation?"_

"What is there to explain?" says Trexalore. "You know very well your crimes. You, like all the traitors, know that being in the old city and the forest is illegal. You do it anyway. You, like all your friends, know it is an act of violence to rebel, and yet you do so anyway. And now you _rebels_ have taken it another step further, sending in an imposter as God, something even you rebels would abhor, only to further your agenda! You are despicable, and will be _executed!_ _TAKE HIM AWAY!"_


	25. Destiny? What Destiny?

**-REMEMBER ME-**

**PART II**

CHAPTER SEVEN

_Destiny? What Destiny?_

I pace back and forth, the lock remaining stubbornly locked. I glare at it as Jexlan watches me with wide eyes.

"There has to be a way out. There's always a way out."

I explore every inch of the walls with my fingertips, rattle the doors, try to see a weakness in their structure. But there is none. It's a perfect prison. Or well, it is when you can't get out. There must be a weakness, a way out, a solution, but to me, it is no where to be seen.

If the Doctor were here…

But he's not, he's about to be executed, and he needs my help.

Not long after, I collapse on the cold floor, and I feel the tears spring to my eyes.

"It's hopeless," I say softly. "There's no way out."

"You musn't give up hope, my dear…there must be a way out," says Jexlan.

"Yes, but _I can't see it!"_ I whisper-shout, still afraid to draw attention.

Jexlan scoots over to sit next to me, and places a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"There, there…I'm sure we'll think of something. The Doctor needs rescuing, and you will be the one to rescue him. It is your destiny."

I look up at him sharply.

"My what?"

Jexlan goes pale, and his face turns into a mask. He's said too much, and he knows it.

"What do you mean, it's my destiny to save him?" I ask.

"I'm sure you'll find a way out," he scrambles.

"Tell me!" I demand.

Jexlan is quiet, as he looks down at his hands.

"It is not my place to tell you. I'm merely a lonely soldier. To have the Doctor here is dangerous enough, but it is an honor. None of us ever expected to have _you_ visit us as well."

"What's that supposed to mean? Do you know me?"

"Yes. Well, no. I know you as well as any mortal may know a legend."

"What do you mean?" I say, standing up, staring at Jexlan desperately, as if he held all the answers. Answers I didn't know I was looking for, to a question that I don't know.

But as I stand up, something falls out of my pocket, and bounces on the floor with a tinkling sound.

My face splits into a wide grin, and I laugh out loud as I scoop it up. My "destiny" is forgotten, because I've just found our ticket out of here. You clever boy, putting that there.

"The Sonic Screwdriver! HA!"

Jexlan stands.

"What is that device?"

"It's a screwdriver, but sonic," I explain, rushing to the cage doors and aiming the sonic and the lock.

I hear Jexlan gasp.

"It is true, then…if ever there was a doubt…"

I give him an odd look over my shoulder, but he turns his head away. I turn back to the lock, cycling through the settings until I find the right frequency.

"I've almost….got it…hang on…"

Jexlan watches anxiously over my shoulders.

_Buzzz….BUZZZZZ…buzzzzzz….CLICK!_

"Yes!" I shout in triumph, punching the air as the lock clicks open. I pull it out of the cage bars and throw it to the ground, the doors swinging open into the unknown.

"Now what?" asks Jexlan. I grin at him, triumphant and determined.

"Now? Now, we save the Doctor."

They do not take me back to the cell with Clara, and immediately I become worried. As soon as we are out of sight of the throne room, the guards become rougher with me and I attempt to fight them off. But, their hold is too strong on me and they continue to drag me down the halls, until we come out into daylight.

I was right, we were in a great pyramid of some sort. But not like an Egyptian or Mayan or Aztec pyramid. No, this one is by far greater. Bigger, and there are several pyramids, stacked side by side of varying size, with more decoration and rooms poking out of the side of them and dotted about the pyramids. It is truly a sight to behold.

I wish Clara were with me, so she could see it too. She would appreciate it's beauty far more than I would.

I do hope she's alright. I hope she comes round in time to perhaps get me out of what could possibly be a very sticky situation.

But in front of me, there are people everywhere. They line the cobbled streets, looking for all the world like cattle. Their heads were hung low. Any decoration they wore was dull. Their shoes were dull and worn down and in several cases stained with blood. What had these people been through? What was their plight?

Every single one of them armed.

And yet, they did not take up arms against their oppressors.

"Where are you taking me?" I ask of the guards.

"It'll be ta the gallows with yeh, and no mistake. Yeh done a right foul thing, and yeh should be grossly punished for it. That's what Trexalore says, and so it shall be done."

"Ah. And do you always do _Trexalore's_ dirty work?" I say, in a voice loud enough for the people to hear. "Dragging innocent people to their deaths? Brutally punishing those that do not agree with you?"

"Yeh're in no way _innocent,_ foul traitor."

"Oh, but you wouldn't know, I've had no trail. Punishment had been declared by a brutal dictator. No doubt you follow his orders into bullying _these_ people as well, your own people! Do you rummage through their homes, and kill them on sight if they do something that breaks the laws? Which are no doubt ridiculously strict—"

"You can _shut it!"_ declares the more violent of the two, elbowing me in the side in a typical display of brutality, throwing me off my feet. "Hasn't anyone told you? You _talk_ too _much!"_

The other one, the one with the cockney accent, none too gently pulls me back up again and pushes me on my way. The people look on with a spark of dulled interest. Perhaps no one has fought back in a very long time.

"Ah, afraid, are you? Afraid of a little spark of rebellion?" I say loudly.

"Yeh're nothin' but a _traitor! _And yeh'll be _hanged _for it! As you should! Impersonating our God is a foul offense worthy of execution! So yeh might as well _shut it!"_

"You can't hang me, I'm God!"

He shakes me violently.

"You've already been called out on your fraud, if you ever wish to save yourself, you better _shut up."_

Well, it was worth a shot.

They drag me to a platform, and a cage underneath for all to see. The crowds gather, watching with pale eyes, a spark of excitement in their otherwise downtrodden lives.

"Hear ye, Hear ye," calls out the town crier. "Let it be known that the foul traitor, only known by his false impersonation of our lord God Doctor, shall be punished by execution for this most heinous crime. Let it be known that _this_ is the fate awaiting _every_ _rebel!_ And they will _all_ receive their punishments! Huzzah!"

The crowd lets out an obligatory huzzah, and I see my chances of escaping by somehow rousing up the downtrodden crowd into an angry one go down the drain.

**A/N:**_ Blech, life. Life sucks right now. Leave a review to make me feel better! You're all gorgeous, dear readers!_


	26. To Save The Doctor

**A/N: **_Surprise! Bet you didn't expect to see me today, eh? Well, I'm in an awesome mood so I thought I'd just pop in and say hello to everyone and surprise you all with a treat! It's 50 days till the anniversary guys! 50 days till the 50__th__! So here's a celebration treat, a new chapter early! Yay!_

_Also, I'd like to thank all of my readers and reviewers for being so awesome! You guys are the reason this story is posted. You're all just so AWESOME!_

_Please don't forget to leave a review at the end!_

**-REMEMBER ME-**

**PART II**

CHAPTER EIGHT

_To Save The Doctor_

"What's the quickest way out of here?"

The tunnels are dirty and dank, and echo uncomfortably. The slightest movement of even a mouse makes the loudest sound. The drops of rainwater that have sifted through the dirt make the loudest plopping sounds. Our shoes clomp obnoxiously loud on the wet dirt, and I wince at every movement.

"This way," Jexlan says, leading me on through the tunnels. "These are _our_ tunnels. This was built by the rebellion. I know my way. I can send messages, and we can have backup within ten minutes."

"What sort of back up?" I ask in a hushed whisper.

"My people."

"No weapons. No violence," I say. "The Doctor wouldn't like it."

Jexlan stops in his tracks, and gives me an odd look.

"What are you stopping for?! We don't have time!" I grumble impatiently.

Jexlan moves on, until we've reached a niche in an alcove. There's a small box, invisible to the untrained eye, blending in completely with the dirt and mud. But once Jexlan runs his fingers along the edge, letting the lid fall into a small table, the illusion falls away.

Inside the box is a small device, and Jexlan taps his fingers on in in a specific pattern. A type of Morse code.

"They'll have taken the Doctor to the square. If we can reach him before he hangs, if he can stall them long enough…we might have a chance."

"That's _not_ good enough!" I whisper angrily.

"It will have to be. Those we have hidden in the city will take at least ten minutes to reach him. Beyond that, there is little we can do."

"Why can't we just march up there and free him ourselves?"

Jexlan's eyes go wide with fear.

"I cannot risk—"

I grab him by the arm, eyes glinting dangerously.

"You can't risk _what?"_ I growl.

"It's too dangerous."

"I don't care! I won't let him die! We've got to save him, and you're going to help me. Whatever risk there is…you don't understand. A universe without the Doctor…there is the much greater risk. Without that man, everything…_everything_ will fall to hell. He's as essential to the universe as gravity. And he can help you, with this rebellion. He can, I promise. Now, _help me save him_."

We glare in each other's eyes for a moment, before something shifts and I see him cave.

"Alright, alright. We've got to move quickly."

"People of the great city of Trenzalore! We gather here today to witness the execution of a traitor most foul! A most just and deserving punishment to fit the most heinous of our crimes!"

The crowd let out a cheer, as above on the gallows stood the Doctor, his hands cuffed behind his back. The crowd jeered and booed, bloodthirsty for an execution. It had been too long in this bloody way and it had been too long since they could enact some form of revenge.

As the crowd roared, they jostled a small woman, dressed in a dark cloak, with her hood covering her eyes and masking her identity. She moved through the crowd, as swift and invisible as shadow, avoiding the flailing elbows and the stomping feet. She simultaneously stuck out and blended in, and no one took her any notice. She moved in quickly, lightly pushing her way through the crowd until she stood a bit of a distance from the base of the platform.

It was only then that she looked up, locking eyes on the doomed man about to be hung. She knew this man, but had never seen him before in her life. He took no notice of her.

"Traitor!" roared the town crier, as he paced the platform in front of the Doctor. "You have been accused of crimes most foul! Conspiring against the great city of Trenzalore, breaking with this one true civilization…and most foul deed of all, impersonation of our Lord God Doctor! And for these heinous crimes, a most foul, deplorable punishment shall be executed to fit the crime! For these crimes, on this day, you shall be hung by the neck until dead. Do you have any final words?"

The Doctor was silent for a moment.

"Only this: That this isn't what's meant to be happening. These people, you…all of you…were meant for so much more than petty war. Put aside this fighting and join together. I am guilty of no crime as I know them by the laws of this planet. I have stood no trial, and cannot be judged guilty or innocent without one. To be put to death, merely by use of a name! I _am_ the Doctor, and that is my name. I have gone by the name of Doctor for 750 years, and I will go by the Doctor until the day I die. To punish a person merely by use of a name is a far more tragic crime than any you claim I have committed."

The town crier glared at the Doctor, before slipping a noose over the Doctor's head.

The woman in the crowd watched, as the man stood tall and proud in the face of execution. With this, she raised a small bow, loaded, and pulled back on the string with an air of someone who had handled one all her life.

Without drawing the notice of those around her, she raised it, aiming it at the Doctor.

She had her orders, after all.

On the platform, the executioner prepared to hang his next victim. As his hand closed around the lever, the Doctor looked down at the crowd, and he locked eyes with the woman. His eyes became alight with the spark of recognition.

She had not been expecting this. She gasped in shock, but her aim remained steady and true. She watched his face flicker from wonder to fear to excitement to astonishment so fast the emotions could hardly be said to have occurred at all. Finally, his face settled on calm acceptance.

"May God have mercy on your soul," shouted the town crier, in a dooming voice.

The executioner gripped the handle, the woman stood poised, ready to fire, and the Doctor stood tall and still with a noose around his neck.

**A/N: **_REVIEW, LOVELY READERS! Tell me who you think the woman is and what she's doing there! I'd love to hear your theories : ) _


	27. Echoes

A/N: _Another early update! YAY! Good thing I didn't leave you hanging for long, eh? Don't you love/hate cliffhangers? _

_Anyway, since the 50__th__ is rapidly approaching, thought I'd do more regular updates than once a week. I'm still only a few chapters ahead, but I think I'm finding my writing stride again. No more excuses, time to pick up the pen! (Er…laptop)_

_In other news, I've been assigned a massive project for studio I've been putting off for four days now, and I really should go to studio today to get started. So, I'd love to hear some alerts on my phone for new reviews while I'm doing my project! You guys are already awesome, but you'd be really, super awesome if you would leave some reviews _

_Also, I've started reading _Diversion_ at the recommendation of my mother. Four chapters in and I'm hooked. Highly recommend it. It's a bit like Hunger Games, but I see no hint of a love triangle yet so *phew*_

_Anyway, off we go! Alons-y! _

**-REMEMBER ME-**

**PART II**

CHAPTER NINE

_Echoes_

"_May God have mercy on your soul!" shouted the town crier, in a dooming voice. _

_The executioner gripped the handle, the woman stood poised, ready to fire, and the Doctor stood tall and still with a noose around his neck._

With a loud clang, the executioner pulled the handle, and the trap door beneath the Doctor's feet swung open, and the Doctor fell through the hole, swinging by his neck. Where before he had been perfectly still, now he kicked his feet, closing his eyes and turning very red in the face. (The executioner didn't know it, but he'd already engaged his respitory bypass system.)

The woman watched, arrow pointed, waiting for a signal, a sign.

The Doctor's eyes flew open, and locked on the woman.

She winked, and then she fired.

* * *

With a whistling noise and a snap, the arrow tore right through the rope just above my head. With a great pain and burning sensation in my neck, I fell through the air until my feet hit the ground, and then my knees. Disgusted, I pulled the rope off my neck and gingerly touched the burned skin there.

As I took deep, normal breaths again, I heard the muffled roar of an angry crowd denied fresh blood. The sunlight filtered through the wooden boards beneath the platform, shielding me from the crowds.

My thoughts turned to the woman.

She'd saved me. She'd saved my life. Well, my respitory bypass system would have saved me, but not for forever. It would have taken longer, but there would have been no more Doctor. Without her intervention, I surely would have died. The woman had saved my life.

I hoped I'd get an opportunity to thank her, but I know all too well, having lived my life, how that might not be the case.

Why did she seem so familiar?

"Psst! Doctor!"

Clara!

I turn with the biggest toothy grin to face my lovely companion, who smiled brightly back at me, knowing I was safe.

She looked like she'd been through hell and back, but none the worse for the wear. She had dirt on her face, tiny hairs were escaping from her bun, and one of her knees was skinned, but I'd never seen a more pleasant sight.

She's surrounded by several natives, who all appeared to have accepted her as one of their own. Once again, she manages to astound me.

"Clara!" I whisper ecstatically. She grins, dirty cheeks flushing in excitement.

"Doctor!" she cries, rushing to me and throwing her arms around me, standing on tiptoe in order to reach high enough. I laugh, hugging her right back.

This girl. This impossible girl. If I'm not careful, I could really—

_No, stop that thought right there._

"Clara, quickly!" reminded one of her friends.

"Yes!" she say, pulling back and slipping her tiny hand into mine, grinning. "Right! Come on, Doctor, we've got to get you out of here."

* * *

And left behind, in the crowd, was the woman who had saved the Doctor, always, she was meant for this. No longer invisible, the woman lowered her bow as the crowd, denied their vindication, looked for a culprit.

In the time it took for them to discover who it was who stole their vengeance, the woman lowered her eyes, accepting her fate. She offered up a silent prayer, losing herself in her hopes and shutting out the world she would soon no longer be a part of. The roar of the crowd, the anger, the people stepping on her feet, the eyes turning towards her…they all no longer existed, were no longer real.

The only real thing was the man she had saved, the man who this world called God…the Doctor. The Doctor, who she had saved. The Doctor, who was now far, far away. The Doctor, who she now prayed to and for. The Doctor, who she now remembered.

"_Run you clever boy,_" she whispered under her breath. "_And remember."_

Sound came rushing back, until the crowd was screaming in her ears. She felt their angry roar, and knew it was all directed at her. And then she felt a sharp blow to the back of her head, and all went to darkness.

A/N: _Yes, it was another version of Clara! A lot of you guessed correctly! I was surprised so many of you guessed River, who I hadn't even thought of! Hm…maybe I should have River make a special guest appearance! ;D Not yet, though. Have to get through this adventure first, and my treat for after this one, and we'll see where things go from there __ I've got a big space where not a lot is written between right now and the climax of the Fourth Doctor's arc, so maybe I'll write in an extra adventure with River Song in there _

_Anyway, please leave a review! _

_Speaking of reviews, I've noticed that the chapters where I was rude were statistically getting more reviews, and I'm completely surprised. So help me prove that the human race responds better to kindness than rudeness this chapter and leave lots of reviews because I asked nicely!_

_Wonderful readers, please kind sir/madam, would you leave a review for this author who works so diligently to bring you reading enjoyment? Thank you, thank you! (Insert top hat and moustache in a gentlemanly fashion.)_


	28. Escape and Diversion

**-REMEMBER ME-**

**PART II**

CHAPTER TEN

_Escape and Diversion_

"Where are we going?" you ask, as soon as we're back in the tunnels and safely on our way. Above us, we can hear the roar of an angry crowd. My fingers tremble in the Doctor's hand with the fear of being caught. Jexlan's eyes were not entirely certain when he said there was no way they could follow us.

"To the old city," answers Jexlan, as he limps on ahead of us, following the other rebels. "It is where we have made base."

"And, ah, Clara…" you say, whispering to me now. "Who are your friends?"

"They're the rebels, going against Trexalore and the City. They've been telling me all about it on the way over here. Apparently there's a big war on between them, the rebels and the City. I'm not entirely sure about all of it—there wasn't time for them to explain everything to me—but they've decided to take a stand against the injustice of Trexalore. And right now, there's a ceasefire, which is why is was so dangerous for us to rescue you—if they had been caught it would have been all out war."

"Why go to all this trouble to rescue me?"

I keep my back firmly turned on you, because there's something—something big going on here and it's all centered around _you_. And I'm afraid.

"We do not believe in condemning innocents to death," says one of the rebels, who I hadn't realized was listening in. "It goes against our every creed."

I silently thank him, and he nods as he locks eyes with me, a mutual understanding to keep whatever is going on about the Doctor secret from the Doctor—for now.

"Things will be more fully explained once we reach the old city," explains the rebel, who sees the confusion in your face. "Our leader is the only one who is capable of fully explaining your role in these events, Doctor."

Your eyes narrow in suspicion. You hold your tongue, but I can practically hear all the wheels turning in your head. I squeeze your hand and you give me an absent-minded squeeze back.

As we turn a corner, there's a shout behind us, and the noise of footsteps, and the barking of dogs, and we all stop dead.

My hearts pound as I attempt not to make a sound.

I knew it, I _knew_ they would follow us.

The shuffling of feet and the sound of breathing seems loud—too loud. In the distance, echoing in the tunnels, I can hear them—searching, shouting—for us. Dogs barking. I close my eyes in horror.

And to make matters worse, you let go of my hand.

My eyes snap open, to find you peering around the corner, as silent as a church-mouse, seeing how far behind they are, listening and perhaps making complex calculations in your head as to how far behind us they are by the sound of their voices, as only Time Lords can do.

I exchange a frightened look with Jexlan—the liar. He mouths his apologies.

You turn away from the corner and back to us.

"They're not that far behind us—we've got to keep moving," you whisper as you rejoin the group.

"No," exclaims one of our friends in a whisper. "This is not possible."

"Well, obviously, it _is_ possible as it's happening right now, so let's get a move on," I whisper angrily.

"They must have discovered the tunnels," says another one.

"We have to keep moving," you remind them. They ignore you.

"Did they follow us?" asks Jexlan.

"It's possible," says the one who seems to be the leader of our little group—whose name I recall is Gurkhan—as he looks around him. "We can make it…we can lose them." Seemingly, he's identifying where we are, seeing some distinction between the plain stone walls and the endless amounts of creeping roots overhead. To me, it all looks the same. He glances at the Doctor, and neither you nor I miss the _precious-cargo_ glance they all share.

"Let's _go,_" I mutter.

Gurkhan glances at me, then at the Doctor. He frowns, like the weight of the world rests on his brow.

"It will be hours before we can leave the tunnels. We must mislead them."

"Well, whatever we do, we've got to do it fast," you say. Everyone nods their assent.

"We have to split up, we need a diversion," says Gurkhan.

Gurkhan looks like he does not like this decision, but all of the rebels stand taller, proud to serve, waiting for their orders.

"Sevran and I will mislead them away from our route," volunteers Jexlan. I gasp.

"But Jexlan—"

"No," vetoes Gurkhan. "Jexlan, you carry your report for Tragalade, our leader. You carry valuable information about the enemy's activities. You will remain with the main group."

"I can cause a diversion," you say suddenly.

"NO!" everyone shoots down at once.

"Not _me,_" you say. "Not me _personally…_Think! I have a plan."

"Of course you do," I mutter. You glare at me. I give you my cheekiest, most sarcastic grin. Your eyes twinkle. "Go on, then, what is it?"

You pull out a silver whistle and blow on it, but no sound comes out.

"Was that meant to do something?" I say.

You grin and grab my hand, moving us all on.

"It _did_ do something, Clara. Now, let's get going, quickly."

"What did you do?" asks Jexlan.

"Something clever, now which way is the way out of here?"

"Doctor, I don't care who you are, or how clever you think you can be, we cannot escape from our pursuers without some form of diversion. Sevran, Yexlant, you two go. You know what to do."

"No!" you protest, but they're already gone.

Gurkhan hurries us along. You round on him angrily as we move.

"Why did you do that?! I had a plan!"

"No, you didn't, you blew on a whistle. For an immortal figure of worship, you are _stupid."_

"A what? What did you call me? A _what?_" you retaliate, looking angry.

"Nevermind that now!" I say grumpily, pulling you along. You blow on the whistle again, seemingly hitting a different silent note than before. "We have to get out of here, Sevran and Yexlant will cause a diversion and we'll meet them after they've caused a diversion, right?"

I look to Gurkhan for answers, but he looks merely pained, as does Jexlan, you, and the others.

"What?"

No one answers me.

"_What?"_

* * *

_**A/N:** Alright, bit of explanation. In the Classic series, the silent whistle was used to call K-9 when the Doctor or his companion needed him. The first note there was to call K-9, as the Doctor intended to use K-9 as a distraction, and the second note was to cancel calling K-9, because the Doctor wanted him to stay out of the action and not get hurt since Gurkhan had already sent the rebels as a distraction.  
_

_Anyway, finished Divergent! It was pretty good. I'm starting on Insurgent now, should be good! Just in case, ya know, you were curious about my reading habits._

_Please leave a review!_


	29. Diversions, Doubles, and Destinies

**-REMEMBER ME-**

**PART II**

CHAPTER ELEVEN

_Diversions, Doubles, and Destines_

The only sound are the sound of our footsteps and the angry dogs and shouts behind us as we run as silently as possible for several minutes.

Not long after, there's an increase in the intensity of shouts. You grip my hand tighter than strictly necessary as you pull me along.

There's a few more shouts, and it grows in volume as the dogs bark intensely, as though they've found what they're looking for.

Different shouts, almost calls, are added to the mix, calling through the tunnels, and our group becomes tense. Except me, because I don't understand what's going on. I mean, they're causing a distraction, but surely they'll be alright…right?

No sooner have I reassured myself of this than the sound of a terrible, blood-curling scream is heard.

I whip around, stopping dead in my tracks, filled with dread.

"No…"

Your arm comes around me, and pulls me along, holding me firm as you force me to run again.

"But…but…"

You grip me tightly, keeping me stumbling along.

"They created a diversion," you explain to me grimly, anger at meaningless death smoldering.

But still, we keep going.

We hear the shouts of victory from the echoes. I feel sick to my stomach.

We keep running.

Soon after, the tunnels fall silent except the sounds of our breathing, and our footsteps.

"It was unnecessary," you say, in a tightly controlled voice, eyes fixed on Gurkhan.

"They brought honor on their familes, and bravely sacrificed themselves in the highest cause of all." Gurkhan says.

"You sent them to their deaths!" I cry, upset.

He avoids eye contact.

"Yes, I did," he says quietly.

Silence falls.

"Too many died today," says another of our party, Tremlan. He's a young boy, of about eighteen. He's nervous, eyeing us all with the nervous energy of someone with bad news to share. "Oswin was killed."

My head shoots up. Everyone stops dead in their tracks to look in horror at Tremlan.

"Who?" I ask.

I look to you for answers, and you look pained.

"I didn't know her name…" you mutter. "How could I have? Oswin…"

"Who's Oswin?" I ask.

"Tralgalade's daughter," answers Jexlan mournfully. "And loved by many."

Why does her name sound so familiar?

"_Oswald for the win…Os-win!" _

I shake my head in irritation, like a fly had landed near my ear. You give me a funny look. I shake the memory off.

"She died with honor," says Tremlan, eyeing the Doctor. "She saved the Doctor."

"As was her fate," says Jexlan.

Gurkhan, who made no movement nor sign of recognition at the news, now turns angrily to Jexlan.

"That was not her _fate!_" he yells angrily. Jexlan does not become angry, just lowers his head sadly, looking even more pained than before. He turns on his heel and storms onward, back straight as a rod.

Everyone moves along, and Jexlan and I trail behind.

"What's wrong with Gurkhan?" I whisper to Jexlan. He turns his eyes sadly on me.

"Gurkhan was engaged to be married to Oswin."

"Oh, no," I say sadly.

"It had been arranged since their births…but it was long said by the high priests that her destiny was written in the stars," says Jexlan. He eyes me, face full of sadness. "As is yours, my dear."

"You said earlier. About my destiny. What did you mean?"

He looks at me, and then glances at the Doctor.

"Your fate is tied to him as tightly as a knot. Your fate, your purpose, is bound to him in a way I have never seen before."

I watch your back as you walk, your scarf haphazardly thrown over your shoulder, velvet red jacket swishing as you walk, curls bouncing underneath your floppy hat.

"What do you mean?" I ask Jexlan.

"He is important…essential to the universe as gravity, as you so aptly pointed out. If he is the Doctor, the Doctor that is spoke of in our legends…then the universe cannot exist without him. And he cannot exist without you."

As I watch you, you turn and smile at me. Your entire personality is written in that smile. I get the feeling you know we're talking about you. I smile back at you, and you turn back around.

"It's more than that, though, isn't it?" says Jexlan. I start. I forgot he was watching us. I look back at him and he smiles. "You two. You're…"

"We're what?" I ask.

Jexlan shakes his head, looking pleased. I frown.

We're silent for the rest of the trip, each of us lost in thought.

We continue on.

It's a long and arduous journey, the earth underfoot, the crumbling stone walls on either side, and the hard-packed soil and roots of trees and plants overhead. Frequently, you check your watch, and after the fourth time I ask you the time you just start telling me. Ten minutes, thirty minutes, an hour, two…three…four…

Until finally, the tunnel floor starts to tilt upward, and before long we reach a set of doors. Two of our friends pull the heavy stone doors open. All of us blink and cover our eyes in the bright sunlight.

_Run you clever boy, and remember. _


	30. Welcome to the Jungle

**-REMEMEBER ME-  
PART II**

CHAPTER TWELVE

_Welcome to the Jungle_

As my eyes adjust to the bright light, blinking in the sun after the long dark of the tunnels, my vision begins to clear. Leafy green plants and bright blue sky. It was beautiful. It would remind me of Earth, if the plants weren't so primitive looking and a bright purple fuzzy animal of some sorts hadn't just crawled out of the underbrush, snuffling at the commotion near it's home.

Gurkhan leads the way out of the tunnels, and we step into the bright, warm sunlight. A sound of contentment escapes from my throat as the temperature raises, and I grin at you as you turn around to look at me. Without any sort of signal of agreement, you slow down and take my hand.

I grin at you. There's a moment we share, as we look first at our surroundings and then at each other, of _isn't this great? Alien stuff. _I giggle, and Gurkhan turns around, looking angry, but when he spies our linked hands merely looks very sad and turns away. The smile falls from my face, to be replaced by a frown.

"How long is it until we reach the city from here?" you ask Jexlan.

"Not far. Only an hour or so. We should be free from our pursuers now, they would not dare tread on our land. They have lost too many soldiers to our defences. If they only knew that now, our defences are not so strong…the revolution would be over before it truly started."

"Tell us about this revolution," you say as we continue walking.

"There is not much to tell," answers Jexlan. "Trexalore's predecessor—he was a great man. He held this civilization together. He ruled for a hundred years. It was a golden age.

"And then, he died. No one is quite sure how—it was not yet his time to go."

"How long do you lot live, then?" I ask, curious. For a species so early in it's development to live so long is strange.

"Two hundred years."

"Curious," you say, pensive. "Continue."

"His name was Trenzalore, and the Great City is named for him. But Trenzalore had no children of his own, and so he adopted his wife's brother's son—Trexalore.

"Trexalore was a foul boy and is an even fouler man. But he had a great ability to charm. In his youth, he was not so bad, and so Trenzalore took him under his wing—he was fond of him. But as Trexalore got older—he became rude, angry, and had a hateful vengeance against his uncle.

"Some say this had to do with the death of his father. He was sent on a hunting trip by Trenzalore, to bring down a great beast that had been destroying our crops and terrorizing our people. The Great Beast destroyed the hunting party—and all were slaughtered save one. Tragalade."

"Your leader?" I interrupt.

"Yes—a great man. He slew the Beast, but at a great cost to himself. The Beast took a leg from him for his trouble. But Trexalore blamed both Tragalade and Trenzalore. And he carried a vengece for them both the rest of his life.

"But Trexalore is a clever, charming man when he chooses to be so. So he tricked Trenzalore into believing he was a good, honest man…when he is in fact the opposite. He true nature was known to all but Trenzalore. But no one spoke to him of this, fearing his wrath. He was fiercely defensive of Trexalore."

"Why would they fear his wrath if he was such a great man?" I ask, a hint of sarcasm creeping into my voice.

It's not Jexlan that answers, but you.

"A great leader must become both sides of the coin when needs must. A great leader must not be cruel, but he must also not be weak. Justice with kindness. Love with strength. Yin and Yang. Without good, there cannot be evil. And without evil, there cannot be good. It is a basic fact of the universe, Clara, that we need both. There cannot be one without the other—balance is essential. You will find this fact prominent in the universe's greatest creations. And it's greatest people—it's greatest leaders."

Jexlan nods his head in agreement.

I look at you, admiring your wisdom and wondering how this could be applied to you.

For following this philosophy of balance—surely for someone so great and good there is also an evil.

What darkness lies within you, Doctor?

You studiously ignore my gaze, more than likely following my train of thought. You clear your throat.

"Continue, Jexlan."

"Anyway, Trexalore waited, biding his time, and as he grew older he gained a group of followers. He had ideas about how things should be run—fresh, new ideas that glittered like gold. And as heir to the throne, he could implement his ideas when the time came. These ideas worked in theory, but in practice…" Jexlan trailed off.

"When Trexalore's ideas were put into practice, the city began to fall to ruin," finished Gurkhan roughly from the front.

It's then that I realize everyone has begun to listen in on the story.

"And what happened to Trenzalore?" I ask.

"He died," answers Gurkhan. "Natural causes,_ apparently_."

The way he says '_apparently'_ so scathingly suggest that he does not believe this story.

"Load of tosh," says Jexlan. "We suspect what really happened—Trexalore killed him. But of course, no one would challenge this. No one except us."

"And who exactly _are_ you?" you ask.

Gurkhan looks around at you.

"We? We are the voice. We are the people. We are the justice and the truth. We are the rightful. We are the Rebels. And we will bring back to the people what was always rightfully theirs: Freedom."

Gurkhan falls silent, and our group all stands straighter at his words, suddenly proud. Suddenly, we find the leaves have opened up, giving way to a great clearing. We have reached our destination.

_Run you clever boy, and remember me_

A/N: _Please leave a __**review**__!_


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